


The Calm to Her Storm

by writerspassion18



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Beginnings, Coping, Divorce, Falling In Love, Family, Family Feels, Family Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Friendship, Friendship/Love, Grief/Mourning, Help, Loneliness, Loss, Love, Pain, Romance, Single Parents, Starting Over, Widowed
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-15
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-04-23 09:19:51
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 31
Words: 104,496
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14329356
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/writerspassion18/pseuds/writerspassion18
Summary: Death isn't easy, and Hermione is barely keeping herself afloat after Ron is gone. After an unlikely friendship between her kids and Draco Malfoy's son brews, something unlikely blossoms between Hermione and Draco too.





	1. Mistakes

_August 10th, 2012_

Hermione took a deep breath, finally ready to get on with this portion of her visit. She unfolded the letter, gathered her bearings, and began to read.

"'Dear dad, I did accidental magic. I made my food fly across the room because I didn't like the vegetables that mum gave me. Mum was both mad and happy. She said that when I'm old enough I'll get to go to a magic school for little kids before they get to Hogwarts. Just like Rose. It will help me so I can control my magic. I hope you're proud of me.'"

Hermione smiled at it a bit and sniffled before folding it back. "Obviously I took a bit of liberty while recounting what Hugo said. He's only been four for a short time after all."

She set the letter aside and pulled out another. "Rose has gotten a bit private as of late," Hermione frowned. "She doesn't want me to read her letter so...I guess I'll just leave it here for you."

Hermione bent over and laid the envelope amidst flowers and against the still somewhat fresh tombstone. She sat back on her heels and stared at it. The expensive marble, because nothing was too good for her husband, her best friend. The engravings that included his name, a memoriam, his date of birth, and his...date of death.

It had been six months since Ron's death, and she'd been coming to his grave on his death day for the past five months. She knew what her family and friends thought. They thought that it wasn't healthy. To hold onto someone that couldn't be held would only deepen her depression and turn her into a useless mess. In a way Hermione agreed, but for right now she needed this. Besides, if she analyzed her actions she would say that she was doing well. Before she would spend hours here, some five or six. Most often than not Harry would have to come bring her home for the sake of her sanity and because Rose and Hugo were wondering where she was. But these last two months she only spent three hours. Over time she hoped that it would dwindle to briefer visits. Ones that would be filled with happiness at a reflection of old times, not sadness.

"Until next month, Ron," Hermione said softly. She gently patted the ground before getting up and disapparating. She landed on her doorstep and stood there for a good fifteen minutes. When she felt like she was fine, she opened the door and, to her surprise, found the house silent.

"I sent them upstairs to play," Harry said as he came out of the kitchen. He gestured to the front door. "I heard you apparate."

"Thanks," Hermione replied humbly. Last month Rose and Hugo had been a witness to the aftermath of a terrible sobbing session. She never wanted to let them see her like that again. "Were they alright?"

"Rowdy siblings as always," Harry grinned. "Not unlike my own."

Hermione could do nothing but agree. James was eight, Albus six like Rose, and Lily three. She didn't know how he and Ginny managed, but they did it. Her and Ron were always running around doing something with both children or just one of them. Now it was just her. With two children aged six and four.

"Hermione?"

She blinked. "What?"

Harry frowned. "I asked if you and the kids wanted to spend the night."

"Oh… No, no it's okay. I'm fine. We'll be okay."

Harry nodded. "Alright. Well, you know where to find us."

Hermione smiled. "One Floo or apparation away. Got it."

Hermione showed Harry to the fireplace although he didn't need the escort. When he was gone she sighed and headed upstairs to greet the dynamic duo who would be responsible for her getting grey hairs early. She found them in Rose's room, surprisingly getting along. They were playing wizard's chess which still baffled her because of their ages. Ron had started them off early, playing them both in turn and teaching them strategies. By now they were both little geniuses. Rose would be playing in her first tournament for it in October. Ron had been looking forward to watching her play…

"Did Uncle Harry go?" Hugo asked without taking his eyes off of the chess board.

"He did," Hermione replied. "Who's winning?"

"I am," Rose grinned as she watched a chess piece move forward and destroyed one of her brother's.

Hugo frowned. "Cheater."

"No cheating here. All skill!"

Hermione had nothing to say. Instead she pulled up a chair and decided to watch the rest of the game. Her children were happy and being near them always made her dull ache go away.

* * *

"He calls me his  _petit bonhomme,_ " Scorpius said with a turned up nose. He was with his father by the lake behind their house and feeding ducks. It was something that they liked to do when they were home and made sure to do it often when the weather was nice. "I don't like it."

"Me neither," Draco said as he tossed some bread onto the water. "Besides," he added with a smile. "If anyone's going to be calling you their  _petit bonhomme_  it's me."

"And mum?"

Draco tried his best not to grimace. "Yes, mum too."

They were quiet for a while, just throwing bits of bread and watching the ducks hungrily gobble it up. Scorpius eventually broke the quiet with a question he had been expecting a lot sooner than this.

"Are you, mum, and me going to live the same house again?"

The same house… Draco quite missed that house and more than the witch that still lived in it. He had spent nine years in that house along La Garonne in France, four years before it in a modest, yet still lavish apartment until marriage. And now he was back in England after thirteen years with his son who visited him on the weekends as he and his mother went through, what Draco considered, an unnecessary step in the divorce process.

"Do you want us to live in the same house again?"

Scorpius paused and thought. "Yes and no."

Draco furrowed his brow. "Why no?"

The little boy looked up at his father and grinned. "I don't get two bedrooms if we live in the same house."

Draco laughed. He dropped the rest of his bread on the ground next to him and dropped down to one knee to pull him into his arms. "I love you, you know that?"

" _Dad…_ " Scorpius choked out. "I can't breathe."

Draco let go a little and smiled. "Sorry,"

* * *

_August 15th, 2012_

"You've been living here for a month and you  _still_  haven't filled this house yet?" Theo fretted as he walked around Draco's lounge. As of now it only held a billiards table, a muggle thing that his friend had grown to like during his early years in France.

"I have priorities, Theo," Draco said as he picked up two pool sticks and handed one to him. "Scorpius' room needed to be fully outfitted first."

Theo cocked a brow. "And it took you, a man with inexhaustible expenses, a month to do that?"

"It had to be perfect," he said simply. He then motioned to the billiards table with a grin. "And I also got this."

"Oh yes, because reprising your gambling problem is a necessity versus a place to lay your head."

"It wasn't a problem. It was a  _well-controlled_  habit," Draco contradicted and used his wand to line up the billiards balls in the way they were supposed to go. "And for your information I have an inflatable bed."

Theo clicked his tongue. "Inflatable bed… When you returned to England I expected a more hoity-toity version of yourself, not a muggle artifact lover. Not that anything is wrong with muggles," he added quickly. Draco smiled and lined up for his first shot.

"It's alright you know. Franny's not here to hear you."

"Bridling the tongue now saves from mistakes later."

Draco nodded. "Touché." The balls scattered beautifully and even landed two in. "Damn, I've missed this. If you want the definition of 'hoity-toity' then go find Astoria. She had promptly destroyed the billiards table I had brought into the house. It didn't read 'proper etiquette' for a social elite home."

"Oh, I bet," Theo snickered as he aimed his pool stick at the cue ball. "How many months until the trial separation is over?"

"Eleven…bloody…months," Draco grumbled. "The French Ministry is the absolute biggest pain in my arse. Had I known that was their take on marriage I would've pushed for having the ceremony here."

"It's not much better here, mate. You have to wait eight."

"Still shorter than a year."

Theo inclined his head. "Very true. Well, try not to think about it in the meantime. You and Astoria both have separate lives now. Maybe time will fly a little faster by not seeing her every day."

"By Merlin I hope so," Draco sighed.

* * *

The two of them managed to play two rounds before hunger called them from the house. They decided to head into London, and although they had been walking around for nearly a half an hour, neither could come to an agreement on where to actually go.

"Buggering hell," Theo grumbled. "No wonder Astoria used to just pull you into any restaurant without your input."

"You're misconstruing things," Draco said as he stood outside of a restaurant and read the menu on a stand. "She simply didn't care about my opinion. It had nothing to do with my selectiveness."

"'Selectiveness' is just a fancy way of saying picky."

Draco shrugged as he frowned at the menu. "If you say so," he said and then peered down the street.

"Oh no," Theo shook his head. "My stomach is about to recede on itself. We're eating here. End of discussion. Draco? Did you hear me?"

"Well, would you look at that," Draco motioned with his head and a slight smirk. "And here I thought I had a handful with just one."

Theo followed Draco's line of sight and saw what he was looking at. Well, more like  _who._  It was Hermione Weasley, née Granger heading down the street with two children beside her.

"That's nothing," Theo commented. "I heard Potter's got three. Anyway, I'm heading inside to get a table."

Theo turned before Draco could follow him. The blond became distracted when a ball came bouncing, and then rolling, down the sidewalk. He bent down and picked it up. When he was finally upright a boy, who looked like a mini version of Weasley in every way, was standing in front of him with his hands out.

"Sorry, Mister," Hugo said with a grin. "Can I have my ball, please?"

"Hugo, that's precisely why I said  _not_  to play with it down the street," Hermione scolded once she caught up to him. She then turned her head to the man who was giving her son his ball back. "I'm really sorry about-" she stopped. And then she blinked. Draco smirked.

"Something in your eye, Granger?"

That snapped Hermione back to reality in a heartbeat. She knew better than to let her children see her in a verbal spat, and so she sent them three storefront windows down where they were meeting Ginny and Lily.

"Malfoy," Hermione curtly greeted. "Last I heard you were off gallivanting about the rest of Europe."

"Not gallivanting. Settling," Draco corrected. "In France, to be precise. And I see you've done your fair share of settling."

Hermione narrowed her eyes. "What's that supposed to mean?"

Draco chuckled and placed his hands at the rim of his pants' pockets. "If you're asking me then I think you know," he gestured with his head behind him. "Freckles. Red hair. Obviously you married Weasley. If you did nothing else with your future I thought you would've traded up."

While not necessarily polite, Draco had fallen back on what he knew. This, quips and insults, was what he used to with this woman and her lot. It was nothing new. And he had been fully expecting the brunette to grow red in the face, perhaps call him a child and defend the classless, red-headed nuisance, and then head off to her children.

She did get red. That much was certain. However, the acerbic reply Draco had been looking for didn't come. Instead her eyes went wide. They looked a tad watery too. She had taken a deep breath, pursed her lips, and closed her eyes once as though trying to compose herself. When they opened back they were angry, but not an  _angry_  angry. A sad type of angry that Draco had no idea how to interpret.

"Almost fifteen years out of Hogwarts," she said with a quaking voice, "and you're still a horrible person."

Hermione stormed away from him and left Draco completely flabbergasted. He scratched his head once before heading into the restaurant and having the maître d' show him where Theo was. The brown-haired man was already chowing down on an appetizer. At least he had been gracious enough to push half off to the side for him.

"You look confused," Theo commented after swallowing. "What happened?"

"Granger's lost her touch, that's what happened." Draco replied as he sat down. "We spoke-"

"Meaning that you argued. Go on."

"Yeah, well, I said something about that oaf she married and she barely reacted. It was the most uneventful encounter I've ever had."

Theo's fork fell from his hand with a clatter as his eyes widened much like Hermione's had. "You made a wisecrack about her husband?"

"Of course," Draco shrugged. "What of it?"

"You  _arse_ , Draco. Merlin, how much of an insensitive prick are you?"

"Insensitive? When did  _you_  get so  _sensitive_?" The blond shot back. "You used to make fun of him too."

"Key words:  _used to,_ " Theo snapped. "Aside from the fact that we're  _adults_ , I wouldn't stoop so low as to make fun of someone's dead husband."

Draco's mouth flopped open. "Weasley's dead?"

Theo furrowed his brow. "You didn't know? It was all over the Daily Prophet."

Draco scoffed and anxiously began to prod at his appetizer with a fork. "You know that I stopped reading the Daily Prophet and every media outlet like it."

Theo bit back his tongue. Yes, he knew. For good reason too. "Someone tried to rob the joke shop he ran with his brother. A fight happened, destroyed the bloody place, and well you've seen it before. There's a lot of stuff in there, you know? Bloke got buried under a bunch of it and couldn't get out while the other guy hauled it. Weasley suffocated under everything."

Draco couldn't help the look of horror on his face. No, he was no fan of Weasley's, but to die like that? That wasn't the way to go. And to leave a wife and two young kids behind? He suddenly thought of Scorpius and what it would be like if the boy had suddenly lost him.

"Damn it," Draco groaned as he lolled his head back. "I wouldn't have said what I did if I had known. How long has he been dead?"

"Somewhere around January or February, if I remember right. It was cold as hell weather wise, so it's got to be then."

January? February? The man was only dead for half a year. Now Draco felt worse. Furthermore he had completely lost his appetite for eating.

"One month back in England and I'm already mucking things up," Draco brooded. "The last thing I need is to get on  _her_  bad side. Anyone's really."

Theo frowned. "…I never did ask. How  _are_  things for you now that you've returned?"

"Not bad, surprisingly," Draco mused. "But then again I don't go out much unless it's to eat so…take that as you will."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! Welcome to another brainchild of mine lol. If you're in a Dramione Facebook group or follow my Tumblr or my author page, you've probably seen random snippets of this over the past couple of months. I've been writing it for almost a full year and didn't want to post until I had a substantial amount written. SO! I've got 16 chapters down and this story probably won't be any longer than 20 chapters total. Saturdays will be the day that I update (I'm on the US, east coast, just so you know for time difference sake lol).
> 
> As for this chapter, the bit with Rose and Hugo's letters I have to give kudos to the movie Forrest Gump. In case you haven't seen it, I won't spoil it totally, but as vaguely as possible I'll say that it was a beautiful touch. Also, I wanted to address something/add a tiny disclaimer. One of the first snippets I had shared last summer was Draco and Theo's scene about the acknowledgement of Ron's death. It was brought to my attention that it seemed a bit similar to a scene in MrBenzedrine's How to Train Your Auror. Please know that I didn't have that story in mind when writing and any similarities within this chapter are purely accidental. If I'm inspired by someones's work I'll mention it first thing like I did for Happily Divorced (Giminia Wow's Cassie Zabini fyi!).
> 
> Now that's out of the way, I hope that you liked the beginning and that you enjoy the rest! :)
> 
> -WP


	2. Beyond Repair

“That _bas-_ ” Ginny cut herself off. Yes, Lily was only three, but the girl was a sponge and she didn’t want her to repeat her foul language. _Again._ “That was an awful thing to say.”

“Yeah, well, it’s Malfoy,” Hermione huffed as she picked at a croissant. “Would you expect anything different?”

“Yes? I mean it’s been how many years? At the very least I would’ve thought he’d gain some common decency.”

“Obviously he didn’t. I worked so hard not to lash out at him or cry or do both. Especially the last one. I’ve cried enough as it is.”

“Hey,” Ginny said as she reached over to place a hand over hers. “Ron was your husband. Not to mention he was your friend for years before then. You’re allowed to cry as much as you want. We all are.”

Hermione smiled and nodded in agreement. She knew that neither Ginny nor Harry were doing very well either. Better than her though...

“Thanks, Gin. I just hope that I never have to see Malfoy and his git face ever again. The arse...” Hermione grumbled before gasping and turning to Lily. Luckily the girl was too busy coloring to be paying attention. Ginny smiled.

“You know, I think this the first time I've heard you say something bad about him.”

Hermione cocked a brow in the air. “I've said plenty of bad things about him. Especially in the last fifteen minutes.”

“Let me rephrase. This is the first time that I've heard you say something bad about him since early to mid Hogwarts. You pitied him during the war. You didn't hate him.”

“How could I?” Hermione countered. “He was raised in a horrible environment. Sure, he had free will and could make his own choices and all that, but _you_ try going against your family _and_ an evil overlord that lives in your house. It wasn't fair. The fact that he didn't turn Harry over when we were in his Manor showed a ridiculous amount of courage.”

Ginny was smiling broader now. “Your heart is too big, Ms. Weasley.”

Hermione chuckled. “I think you're right.”

* * *

 

_August 18th, 2012_

It had been three days since his incident with Granger and it had been grating on Draco's conscience ever since. However, it hadn't been so heavy before. A nagging thought here or there. But ever since Astoria dropped off Scorpius yesterday, that “nagging” turned into an outright yell. He kept putting himself in Granger’s shoes and wondering how he'd feel. Granted, the situation was a bit different. He was hardly in love with his wife as the brunette obviously was with her other half. Instead, he thought about what it would be like if someone had made a joke about him to Scorpius.

It made Draco shiver.

“Are you cold?”

Draco looked over at his son who had been concentrating his little heart out on playing with these little muggle block things. Legos, if he remembered correctly.

“No, I'm not cold. Just thinking.”

“What are you thinking about?”

Draco sighed and leaned back on the couch. Scorpius’ innocent face was showing so much concern for his father that it was melting him on the inside.

“Dad accidentally hurt someone’s feelings this week.”

“Oh. Did you tell them you’re sorry?”

Draco smiled. “She’s not going to want to see me, kiddo.”

“Send an owl.”

_Smart kid._

“She’ll tear up the letter.”

“But you have to do _something_ ,” Scorpius pouted. “If you’re sad then she’s sad too.”

Now _that_ made him feel worse. Not that he thought his son was right, however. Draco didn't doubt that Granger was sad, but not about his comment. She had probably tossed both it and him far from her memory that very day. It would be his reappearance in her life that would upset and anger her. But whether that was the case or not Draco _had_ to do something for his own conscience. It would eat him alive otherwise.

* * *

 

_August 23rd, 2012_

Draco felt like a stalker. A complete and utter stalker. It had only taken one day and the right questions to figure out where Granger worked. The Ministry, of course. The Department of Magical Welfare, another non-surprise. And yet it was Thursday and he'd yet to face her. Why? Because the thought of walking into a place that had ran his name through hell and back was absolutely daunting. Scorpius had the right idea when he had mentioned the letter, but how would he know for sure if Granger would read it and not toss it? A spell could do that, but how much would that ease his mind, waiting for the tip of his wand to light up to let him know that it was opened and read?

No, this was the best way. And in the past few days that Draco kept a close, yet inconspicuous distance from the Ministry, he noticed some things about the widow.

She was tired. Not the average, “I really don't want to be at work today” kind of tired. It was an exhausted kind. A tired of the world kind. And if he wasn't mistaken she also looked thin. Of course, he hasn't seen her in over a decade, but it still didn't look natural.

And so, here on the fourth day of his espionage, Draco grew sick of himself and promptly reminded his ego that he wasn't some pushover. Yes, he had kicked himself out of the country because he couldn't take the constant condescension, but he was a man now. He refused to be treated like a child or a common criminal.

After making a quick pitstop, Draco entered the Ministry. Despite being back for a month and a half now and, yes, going out in public, it was more or less to secluded places. This was a bold move on his part and _clearly_ people weren't ready for it as he heard poorly contained gasps and whispers. It made Draco smile and, if possible, boosted his ego just a bit more.

He took the lift to the eighth floor. His questioning had given him a verbal schematic of the Department of Magical Welfare, and so he knew where to turn and how far to walk to make it to Granger’s office. He ignored the stares. He passed over the glares. He tuned out everything, including a woman at a desk not far from Granger’s workaholic sanctuary. 

“Mr. Malfoy,” the receptionist said. She stood when she realized that he wasn’t stopping. “Mr. Malfoy!” She hurriedly walked around her desk. “You can’t go in there like that!”

Draco was at the point of pretending people didn’t exist. That said, nothing that the receptionist said had registered with him. He put his hand on the doorknob and walked right in. Granger was at her desk, as expected, but she was also in a meeting with the Minister of Magic so it seemed. It looked important, if the brunette’s angry gaze was anything to go by.

“Ms. Weasley, I’m sorry,” came the receptionist’s voice as she also entered the room. “I _tried_ ,” she eyed Draco viciously, “to tell him that you were in a meeting.”

“We can finish speak later,” Kingsley offered politely. Hermione, clearly annoyed, nodded once to the older gentleman who gave his own acknowledgement to Draco as he left. The receptionist left also and closed the door after her.

“No censor for your mouth or manners,” Hermione grumbled. “I should’ve guessed.”

Draco was on the verge of scowling, but then he remembered that he was speaking to a widow. A very _recent_ widow. A widow whose husband he had insulted just the day before. He reined himself in and dropped what he had come to give her on her desk. Hermione looked from the brown bag that sat on her notes to the blond who had given it to her.

“What’s this?”

“You look like death run over twice.” Draco nearly punched himself for his poor choice of words (again) and at how watery Hermione’s eyes had gotten within seconds. “I mean… You look like you haven’t eaten properly in a while. So...eat.”

Hermione blinked, partly to bat away tears and partly because she was startled. With her gaze back on the bag she realized that it had a restaurant logo on it from a place nearby.

She looked up at him. “Why?”

Draco felt uncomfortable. He rocked back on his heels for a moment and had suddenly taken an interest in the knick-knacks in her office. Books, of course. There were also a lot of photographs of her family, including her husband.

“I didn’t know that Weasley had passed away.”

Hermione sat up straighter in her seat. “So...you’re apologizing to me, not for what you said, but because you found out that Ron is dead?” Draco said nothing. Hermione felt her anger rise. “And you thought _food_ would be enough? That it would be an apology at all?”

Draco scowled. “I didn’t _have_ to bring anything at all.”

“You shouldn’t have!” Hermione shouted at him as she stood abruptly. “You can’t apologize with _things,_ Malfoy. Money doesn’t bring happiness or solves the problems of the world despite what aristocratic purebloods such as yourself believe.”

“Watch it, Granger,” he sneered as he leaned over her desk. Hermione took a step back but maintained her full height. “You don’t know anything about me _or_ what I believe. And in case you didn’t notice, I bought you a three galleon lunch, not a bloody diamond necklace. So, take the food, accept the apology, and don’t make this a bigger deal than it has to be.”

Draco turned and began to walk away. He was almost at the door when he heard Hermione’s voice, so soft and gentle that he thought she sounded wounded. Perhaps she was.

“You didn’t actually say it.”

He contemplated leaving. He could leave right now and never have to bother with this witch again. But his thoughts filled with Scorpius and it pecked at his conscience yet again.

“I’m sorry for what I said,” Draco replied without turning to look at her. “And that your husband is gone.”

He left right after that. Hermione was glad that he did. She didn't want him to see her break down completely.

* * *

 

Harry stared at the offending food item. Well, food item _s_. About fifteen minutes ago he had received a tear-stained memo from Hermione that she needed to see him. He had rushed to her office, expecting the worst, not a well-laid out lunch that looked more like dinner.

Creamy mashed potatoes in an elongated bowl with a parsley garnish. Half a roasted chicken was beside it. A small container with thick, brown gravy was off to the side. Another container held a neatly prepared salad with tomatoes, cucumber, olives, and mango pieces with a light drizzle of dressing.

Hermione sat with red eyes, her hands cupping her face as she stared at everything.

“I'm losing my mind.”

Harry looked up at her. “I think I am too if Malfoy’s bringing you lunch.”

“Not at that,” she sighed bitterly. “I'm just… I feel like every little thing upsets me.”

“What Malfoy said wasn’t a little thing.”

“He didn't know,” Hermione replied as she stared at the elaborate meal. “And he apologized.”

“ _With food,_ ” Harry reminded. “And not even for what he said. You told me so.”

“I know. I just hate that I got so upset. That it…affects me so much.” She looked up at Harry and frowned. “You and I lost the same person and I feel like I'm the only one drowning. And it's been _six_ months.”

Harry followed suit in her frowning. “Hermione, we’re all-”

“I know,” she interrupted him. “But it’s still different.”

While he didn’t want to admit it, yes, she was in a deeper fit of depression than any of them. Some days she was good. And others…

“You loved Ron in a way that neither I nor anyone could. You’ll just...grieve until you get to the point where you won’t anymore.”

Hermione grimly chuckled. “Do you really think I’ll ever get to that point?” She sighed then and brought her attention back to the food. “Help me eat this? My appetite is terrible.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermione is definitely one broken widow. What I like about this chapter is that you get small glimpse of Draco's own struggles too.
> 
> -WP


	3. Parent Traps

_August 31st, 2012_

Despite not being old enough to attend Hogwarts for another five and seven years respectively, Rose and Hugo loved going to Diagon Alley in the days before the train departed. There was so much hustle and bustle. It was good for the children to absorb the energy of it. For herself too, the more Hermione thought about it. This was the first pre-Hogwarts shopping she had done without Ron, and to her surprise she was feeling okay.

"Mum, can I  _please?_ "

" _No,_ " Hermione said for the umpteenth time. Hugo frowned and finally put the rat in its cage back on the shelf he had taken it from. Aside from the fact that rats made horrid pets, she could just never look at one the same ever since Third Year.

"Mummy, what about an owl?" Rose asked as she looked at one in a cage near the cashier's desk. "Can we get one?"

"We already have an owl."

"But that one's just for the post! It's different if we get one for a pet."

Hermione laughed at her daughter's logic while shaking her head. "We're not getting another owl. Now, you both may  _look_  at the animals in here, but we're not taking any of them home, okay?"

Both of them replied in gloomy unison, but then brightened up when the owner of the shop announced that he was going to take one of the owls out to broadcast its feathers. Hermione just knew she would succumb to buying a new pet from here someday soon, but not today. Between not having Ron anymore and Crookshanks himself passing through the veil some a couple of years ago, she missed the companionship.

"Hey!"

Hermione turned to the small voice that, she wasn't quite sure, might have been directed at her. She had thought for a moment that it might be one of her nephews. Perhaps Teddy, since he also liked running through Diagon Alley during its busiest moments. Or maybe Fred if Angelina decided to pass by here before seeing George. Of all the innumerable possibilities, Hermione didn't once think that she would be looking at the miniature version of Malfoy.

The child in question could be no one else's  _but_  Malfoy's. The same blond hair. Those striking grey eyes.  _That smirk._  Well, no… This child's smirk was more of a smile. A cute one at that.

"I know you!" The little one continued.

Hermione smiled at the boy. "You do?"

"Yeah! My dad has a picture of you."

Hermione's face crashed. Those words in a sentence together when  _she_  was the topic was unfathomable. Just...wrong in every way. Not to mention confusing. Before she could even attempt to make sense of what she had been told, the boy's father came into view. Malfoy looked, if she had to guess, uncomfortable to be around her. She very much felt the same.

"Mum! Mum!" Hugo ran up to her with Rose in tow. "Can we go to the joke shop and see Uncle George now?"

Scorpius' eyes widened at that, his jaw dropping shortly after that before turning to his father. "Dad! Can we go to the joke shop too?  _Please?_ "

Hermione immediately looked away from her children and to the blond pair. As Malfoy stared at his son it was obvious that he didn't want to go. However, what was also obvious was how much of a softy he was when it came to the child. The older Malfoy's face turned from reluctant, to defeated, to complacent, if not happy, at seeing how excited his son was.

Draco looked up to find Hermione staring. The children too, it seemed, as they had followed their mother's gaze. "If Ms. Weasley doesn't mind company," he said to Scorpius, "then yes, we can go."

_Of course he would make it_ _ **my**_   _decision,_  Hermione thought irately to herself. Naturally she was going to say yes, but before she could get the words out, her children had already extended the invitation.

"We'll lead the way!" Rose said with glee. She grabbed Scorpius by the hand and practically ran out of the shop.

"Wait for me!" Hugo shouted after her, running just the same. That left the two parents stuck on what to do. Follow the children was obvious, but  _how?_  Did they walk side by side? One in front of the other? If the latter, who went first?

"After you," Draco said as he gestured for her to exit the shop first.

_Polite and gentlemanly… Where the hell was_ _ **this**_   _Draco Malfoy two weeks ago?_

Hermione headed outside first. Despite being eager, the children had waited for them. Once each respective parent was in view they took off running again for the joke shop that was just up ahead.

Hermione swallowed, fully aware of people eyeing them along the way. Draco was used to it, but he watched the witch from his periphery. A subtle scowl she shot someone's way had been both unexpected and impressive.

"How old are they?" Draco suddenly asked her. Hermione nearly tripped over herself.

"Um…"

Draco smirked. "Do you not know?"

"Six and four," Hermione huffed at him and crossed her arms. She then gestured with her head. "And your son?"

"Six."

That was the end of the conversation as they headed into the crowded joke shop.

"Dad!" Scorpius came out of nowhere. "You  _have_  to see this!"

Malfoy was pulled along and Hermione couldn't help but smile. She walked in after them and was immediately bombarded by people and knickknacks. Hogwarts season or not, Weasleys' Wizard Wheezes was always like this.

Hermione saw her children where Malfoy and his son were. She had determined to let them be until until Rose spotted her and beckoned her over.

"Look! It's the toy Uncle George made for us," Rose said happily. Hermione bent over and peered at the small round object that made all undesirable food disappear from your plate and into the trash. She was  _still_ giving George hell for introducing her kids to that. Ron had thought it hilarious.

"So, your uncle works here?" Scorpius asked.

Rose beamed at him. "He  _owns_  it."

"Really? So, you can come here all the time?"

"Yeah! And our Uncle George gives us toys to try before they get sold here."

Draco snorted and turned to Hermione. "You're okay with letting your children be guinea pigs?"

"George wouldn't do anything to hurt them," Hermione growled out. She turned away from him then so that she could survey the rest of the busy atmosphere. That's when she noticed the redhead they had just been talking about trying to get her attention.

"Oi, Hermione!" George whistled and gestured with his head for her to come over. Hermione didn't bother to tell Malfoy that she was leaving his side, nor did she think he would care. They didn't come here together although they did,  _technically speaking_ , come together.

"Hey, George."

"Hey," he then whispered and pulled her closer to his side. "Blink once if you're being held hostage."

Hermione laughed. "What?"

"I'm serious!" George hissed. "Malfoy returns to England after what, a decade or more? And he shows up  _here?_ With  _you?_ "

Hermione pursed her lips and looked through the sea of people. Rose and Hugo had gone off to look at something else. Malfoy had lifted Scorpius in his arms so that he could see something properly on a higher shelf. She smiled again.

"Funny how things turn out."

George nodded. "Funny, odd,  _scary.._. The whole lot. Honestly though, what's he doing with you? The idea is making my skin itch."

"He's not  _with me,_ " Hermione corrected. "We bumped into each other at  _Owls, Cats, and Rats_. His son heard Rose asking about coming here and he wanted to come too."

"Kids," he tutted. "Leading parents into traps for centuries."

Hermione smacked him on the arm and he laughed.

"Blond men too, apparently," George continued. "I'm amazed he found a woman to create a kid with. A good-looking one at that."

"There's someone for everyone, George," Hermione said. "Although, I do wonder about the one he managed to find."

"I'm not," he shivered. "It'll give me bloody nightmares."

Hermione shook her head at him and spotted Malfoy and Scorpius getting ready to leave. He caught her eye and gave her a nod. He also mouthed something else. Was it…  _Sorry?_

He had already "apologized" for his remarks. What else was he sorry for?

"See you in October, Scorpius!" Rose called as the blond duo left. Hermione snapped her eyes to her.

"October? What's happening in October?"

"My chess tournament remember?" Rose explained. "I invited Scorpius to watch me play!"

Hermione felt her heart sink. So  _that's_  why Malfoy was sorry. Looked like George was right. Children definitely led parents into traps.

* * *

_September 1st, 2012_

"You're  _actually_  telling us that we have to sit with  _Malfoy_  during Rose's tournament?" Ginny asked, completely flabbergasted. Hermione nodded as she chewed, looking at Harry from her periphery who was in more a silent shock than his wife. The three of them had just come back from King's Cross Station to give Teddy and Victoire a ridiculously crowded goodbye as they went off for their Fourth and Third Year, respectively. Molly had offered (more accurately kidnapped) all of her grandchildren to spend the afternoon with her and Arthur. That left the parents child-free for the first time in Merlin knew how long.

"That's exactly what I'm saying."

"First food, now this?" Harry shook his head. "It's downright  _weird._ "

"The food, yes. The outing, not so much," Hermione shrugged. "The kids really hit it off."

"Can you imagine what it would be like if they kept at it?" Ginny said. "How often you'd have to interact with him?"

"It's a bit out of my imagination, to be frank," Hermione chuckled. "I mean, it's not like he's going to be calling me the ' _M-word'_  while we're together."

Harry's face lit up with a huge grin. "If he does, it'll give me a reason to arrest him!"

Hermione laughed. "Keep your wand holstered, Auror Potter. I don't think you'll be arresting him anytime soon."

"A man can always dream."

"But back to the tournament," Ginny redirected the conversation. "How's Rose's training been going?"

Hermione sighed. "As well as can be expected, I suppose. Bill's been super helpful, but I think Rose misses playing wizard's chess with Ron."

"Of course she does," Harry commented. "You remember how many hours at night they'd play together."

"And then I'd quarrel with him for letting her stay up so late," Hermione remembered fondly. "Since she was four all Ron would say is that he'd let her play in a tournament one day. She finally gets accepted into one and now…"

"She'll still make him proud," Harry finished. "She'll make him proud no matter what."

* * *

_September 7th, 2012_

This was Draco's hell. Every first Friday of every month he was required to head to France and spend at minimum an half an hour at the French Ministry of Magic, Department of Marriages and Divorces. A one-year separation wasn't enough. He and Astoria had to see a marriage counselor every month to check on the status of their separation to determine if a reconciliation had happened or was on the verge of happening. Whether it was his wife, her family, or his, they had somehow ended up with a counselor who was older than Merlin himself, a pureblood, and therefore very pro pureblood marriages. That said, he was  _very_  determined to keep Draco and Astoria together.

And so, Draco arranged for a portkey (a hefty sum when it was on a monthly basis and for personal use), and went to Paris. He took his sweet time in making his way up to the ninth floor and down the extraordinarily long hallway, at the end of which held a receptionist and his prompt wife.

Madame Roche, a not-quite elderly woman and receptionist, was very sympathetic to Draco's predicament and reminded him very much of the type of grandmother he wished he had growing up. She spoke three languages aside from French, including English, but Astoria didn't know that last bit. It was a secret between the older woman and himself and it drove his wife batshit crazy that despite having lived in France for a decade, her proficiency in the language wasn't enough for her to adequately follow others.

"Elle est énervée aujourd'hui," Madame Roche told him. Draco looked over at Astoria and yes, with her jingling foot, tapping fingers, and lips pursed together, he would agree that she was quite irritated.

"Il n'y a pas d'une différence comparé aux autres jours."

Madame Roche chuckled. "Sois pas méchant."

Draco smirked and sat down next to his wife. She stared at him from her periphery and huffed.

He inclined his head to her. "Astoria,"

"Oh, is it my turn to get to talk to you?" She answered bitterly. "No more French chats with the door keeper?"

Draco rolled his eyes. "She was just asking me how I was. No need to be snippy."

Astoria narrowed her eyes. "Really? Is that what you were  _actually_  talking about?"

"Do you want the truth or should I lie?"

"You're impossible!"

Draco laughed, turned his gaze to Madame Roche, and gestured to Astoria. "Ma petite belle rose. Et nos familles veulent que nous restions ensembles? Je n'ai pas un désir de mort."

Madame Roche hid her laugh behind her hand. Astoria had had enough and got up to knock on their counselor's door just as it opened of its own accord.

"Madame Malfoy, un plaisir-"

"He keeps speaking in French behind my back!"

Draco tutted where he sat and let his ankle cross over his knee. "Tattle-tale,"

Monsieur Durand gave an audible sigh before pleading before Draco. "What did we say about your actions the last time you were here?"

"Well,  _you_  said that they were childish. I said that they were my way to avoid throttling my wife. I'd prefer not to engage in the latter, wouldn't you?"

Another sigh left their counselor's lips before he gestured for them to follow him inside. Draco had succeeded in both annoying his wife and their counselor. And with the latter he hadn't even been trying on purpose! He grinned to himself, gave a hearty wave back to Madame Roche, and entered Satan's torture den.

* * *

_September 10th, 2012_

"Here's Rose's, just like the last time," Hermione said as she neatly set her daughter's note to her father aside. The one from her previous visit was old and withered already. Probably due to massive amounts of rain in the last two weeks. "And here's Hugo's. It says, 'Dad, I made a new friend. His name is Scorpius and he's really funny. Rose likes him too. We're going to watch her play chess in October.'"

Hermione set the letter down and sighed. "I know what you're thinking. ' _Scorpius. Who in Merlin's name would name their kid Scorpius?'_ " She smiled at her imitation of her husband for a moment before adding, "The same person whose father named him 'Draco.'"

She paused for a moment. She imagined what it would be like having this conversation in person. She thought of large eyes, lips slightly parted, and this confused expression that screamed " _How could this be?"_

"They bonded over the toys in the joke shop, Malfoy's son and our kids. It just… It happened so fast. And I wouldn't change what happened either. Kids...shouldn't have to walk in their parents' shadows. From what I've seen of him, Scorpius is a lovely child. That should mean something about the people raising him, shouldn't it?

'Don't get me wrong. Malfoy's still a tremendous arse. Just…not in a mean way. On purpose, if that makes any sense. Regardless, I suppose that's a good thing. I don't think I could take the looks on our kids' faces if I told them they couldn't play with their new friend because I hate their father. I'm trying to stay on the positive side of things lately.

'You see, I… There are days when I'm good, you know? And others when I'm an utter mess. I want to remember you without feeling sad. Without feeling like the world is going to end. I'm afraid that I'll be a mess for years to come and I can't... I can't do that. I love you Ron, but I can't afford to lose myself when the children need me. So, I've decided that I'll try to do better. It may go well or, most likely, turn out absolutely horrific, but at least I'll try. Okay?"

Hermione let her hand settle on top of Ron's tombstone and a heavy weight settled in her chest. She sniffled and closed her eyes. 'Damn you for leaving me."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> First, a HUGE thanks to Virginie Cires for making sure I didn't butcher my French lol. You can take a language for nearly half your life, but that doesn't mean there won't be at least one mistake in there haha. As the conversion went, Madame Roche said Astoria looked annoyed. Draco said there was no difference than normal. He tells her after that he doesn't have a death wish although their families want them to stay together :)
> 
> -WP


	4. Making Friends

_October 13th, 2012_

"What if I get cornered?" Rose questioned her uncle for the millionth time that afternoon. But Bill was patient. He knew how much this match meant to her, and it wasn't just because she loved playing wizard's chess.

"You won't get cornered," Bill reassured her. "We practiced a hundred different scenarios together and you managed to get out of every single one. You'll do great."

"I still think we should've sneaked a little Calming Potion in her tea at breakfast," Harry whispered in Hermione's ear. She chuckled and playfully slapped him on the arm. "I stand by my assessment of  _not_  spiking my daughter's tea. Thanks."

"James!" Ginny hissed from behind them. Hermione and Harry looked back at her as she held Lily in one arm and Albus with her free hand. The third child in question was nearly halfway across the room. " _Stop bothering the man checking tickets!_ "

Harry was on the verge of laughing, but stopped immediately when he caught his wife's plea for help written on her face and then went off to retrieve his mischievous son.

Hermione, on the other hand, laughed for him. She loved her nephew dearly, but she would be a liar if she said that he wasn't a handful. Her own son was quietly by her side and holding her hand. At least until he spotted his new friend.

"Scorpius!" Hugo shouted loud enough to garner  _everyone's_  attention. Considering they were in the lobby near several check-ins, it was certainly a lot of people. Naturally, people were curious as to who the boy was shouting for. Well, "running" for. Hugo had managed to slip his mother's hand and duck and weave his small body through the crowd to reach the small blond boy and his father.

"Well, what do you know?" Bill said to Hermione. "The man actually smiles."

"He's around children," she reasoned. "You can't  _not_  smile around children."

"Did Snape?" He replied smartly and Hermione couldn't even refute it.

If Hermione was honest, she was anxious for today. She had told everyone who was coming that Malfoy and his son was going to be here and how, against all odds, this event was occurring. She didn't want the environment to be cold or awkward or anything of the sort for Rose's sake. She was an incredibly perceptive child and the last thing she needed was to look up into the stands at her mum and the rest of her family trying to figure out why everyone was looking annoyed.

"Hi, Scorpius!" Rose said once he came into view. She gave him a hug, waved at his father, and then turned to Bill. "Uncle Bill, this is my friend Scorpius!"

Bill was very well-restrained. Not to mention he was one of the more "level-headed" members of the family what with being among the oldest. He bent over and put out his hand.

"It's nice to meet you, Scorpius."

"Thanks," he replied shyly before looking up at his father. "This is my dad."

Bill turned his eyes to the blond he hadn't seen in over ten years. He stood and gave him his hand just the same. "Good seeing you."

_Lie._

Draco shook his hand. "Likewise."

_Another lie._

"Dominique!" Fleur yelled as her second daughter zipped pass the check-in and over to her family. "Ne cours pas!"

The little girl came to a halt by all the adults and the children and frowned. "Mais, j'aime beaucoup courir."

Scorpius' face lit up. "Moi aussi, mais mon père n'aime pas."

Every grownup that wasn't Malfoy stared at the boy before turning to Draco who was wearing every bit of pride on his sleeve.

He shrugged and said unashamedly, "What? You live in France all your life and you're bound to pick up something."

Before anyone could comment an announcement rung in the air for all patrons to grab their seats and for all players to head into the main room.

"Advice!" Rose said frantically as she turned to her mother. "I need advice. I  _always_  used to get last minute advice before a game…from daddy."

Hermione's heart shattered. What was worse was that she didn't know what to say to calm her obviously nervous daughter. So did none of the other parents in the room, apparently.

"Did your dad ever teach you how to bluff?" Draco asked suddenly. Rose faced him and tilted her head.

"Bluff?"

Draco smiled. "I guess not. It's a strategy, you see, and it's all in your face and your overall body language."

Rose's head was upright again as she was terribly intrigued. "How does it work?"

"Well, you've got to be able to read the person you're playing. If he or she looks confused then you can bluff to your advantage. If they're about to make a move you don't want, smile. Act proud. Encourage them to do it."

"But I wouldn't  _want_  them to do it."

"And that's the point. They'll rethink their move and then go in a direction that you  _want_  them to go," Draco grinned. "Trust me. It'll work."

_All players into the main room please!_

"Rose," Hermione addressed. "You have to go inside now, love."

Rose, still visibly nervous, took a deep breath. "You're  _sure?_ "

"One hundred percent," Draco replied. Rose had no choice but to accept his word, especially since the door to the main room was going to be closing any moment.

"Thanks," Rose said, gave her mother a quick hug, and then went where she was supposed to go.

Hermione watched her go before addressing Draco with a brow raised. "Did you just teach my daughter Slytherin tricks?"

"Poker," Draco answered honestly. "Besides, I think we're a bit too old to be defined by Houses, don't you?"

_Damn, he's right._

Naturally that grated on the witch's nerves considering that she hated to be wrong. But for the sake of peace she didn't say anything. Instead, she grabbed her son's hand and followed her friends to their seats.

Once inside Hermione was faced with the very real possibility that she'd have to sit next to Malfoy. Other family members (Molly, Arthur, George and others) had already been inside but spread out with several seats in between each other so as to make sure they could all sit together. Now that the rest of Rose's entourage was here and bodies were rearranged Hermione realized that her assumption was right and Hugo and Scorpius sat on two seats just below their respective parent. With a sigh she figured she'd might as well make the best of the situation.

"Do you and your son speak French at home?"

Draco was clearly surprised that she had addressed him. He gave her a quick once-over before asking, "Small talk? Really?"

Hermione let out a guttural groan. "It's a simple question, Malfoy. Just forget it."

"...No," Draco answered after thoroughly enjoying watching her fret. "However, it often slips out of him when he's excited or upset."

Despite trying to hold it in, Hermione grinned. "Adorable. You and your wife must get a kick out of that."

"Me, yes. Her? Not really. She can't understand him."

Hermione furrowed her brow before asking, "How long did you live in France?"

"Thirteen years for me, ten for her, which means no excuse."

"You should've taught her then," Hermione chuckled. Draco shook his head, his nose slightly crinkled in an overall unpleasant facial expression.

"And give myself a headache?" He shook his head again and crossed his arms. "I'd rather not."

Hermione knew a touchy subject when she saw one so she dropped it immediately. Besides, it was time for the tournament to begin. Rose had her game face on and, for a six year old, she was a wizard's chess genius. Her little girl beat out opponent after opponent, most a good few years older than her. Hermione's heart swelled with pride and, if she wasn't mistaken, Draco himself seemed impressed.

Everything was going swimmingly until Rose made it to the final round. She was going up against the child who had won last year which, naturally, would make anyone nervous. Hermione watched in crazy anticipation and thanked Merlin she wasn't a heart patient.

Draco leaned over slightly and whispered, "You're one step away from needing a Calming Potion."

"Do you have any?" Hermione genuinely asked, now wishing she had taken the vial from Harry that morning for herself. Draco chuckled and resumed watching the game, a grin adorning his face while hers fell.

"Oh no," she frowned as she watched Rose's crestfallen disposition. "She's stuck. She doesn't know what to do. She-"

"Checkmate," Rose happily announced after making her move following her opponent's. She looked to the stands and waved with glee as the announcer declared her the winner.

"And that, Granger, is what you call a bluff," Draco said cheekily and returned Rose's wave.

* * *

There were to be festivities after the tournament and Malfoy and Scorpius had been invited to go (out of politeness, of course, and to be good examples for the kids). However, seeing it for what it was, nor being the least bit offended, Malfoy declined, stating that they should get going. Hermione watched as Rose thanked Scorpius and his father for coming and politely requested if she could write them from time to time.

That's when the ball dropped.

Rose had been sweet and thankful, but Hermione knew her daughter. She knew that the interaction had rattled her and she knew the exact reason why. And so, the rest of the evening was spent celebrating at the Burrow, Hermione watching her child from afar as she put up a front with her family. By the end of the night when it was time to go home and go to bed, "mommy mode" was in full force and it was time to get to the bottom of this.

"Alright, Rose," Hermione said as she sat beside her daughter on her bed. "What's wrong? You've been mopey ever since the tournament ended."

Rose fiddled with the ears on her stuffed bunny rabbit, a gift from Hermione's parents, and sighed deeply.

"It's Scorpius. And his dad," Rose replied uneasily. "I… I found out they were Malfoys today when I asked if I could write them."

_Just as I thought,_ Hermione bitterly mused to herself. She knew that this day would come sometime, however, she had imagined it would be when the children were all at Hogwarts, not six-year-olds who shared a love of toys.

"And?" Hermione asked. Rose hugged her sheets tightly.

"Daddy used to say that we should never trust one."

_Yes, yes he did._

"Your father had his reasons for saying that," she answered her. "But...I don't think he's right anymore."

"So the Malfoys aren't bad people?"

"Do you think Scorpius is a bad person?"

Rose sat up in bed, eyes wide and excited. "No! He's really nice and he's my friend. Hugo's too."

"You're right. Scorpius is a very sweet boy. And his father…is a nuisance," Hermione honestly described, an added laugh to ward off tension. She shook her head and gently settled her daughter back down in bed. "But he's not a bad person. Don't be afraid to write to your friend. And whenever Mr. Malfoy and his son are free, you all can play together. Alright?"

Rose smiled, yawned, and nodded. "Okay."

* * *

_November 3rd, 2012_

For the past three weeks Hermione's house resembled an owl post shop. All she saw was either her owl or this majestic-looking bird, the Malfoy owl, swooping in and out of her windows. It was official. Scorpius Malfoy was Rose and Hugo's best friend.

Friday or Saturday nights tended to be playdates, which meant that both Hermione and Draco had to endure one another's company. Well, "endure" was a harsh word. She stood by what she told Rose in saying that he was a nuisance, but he wasn't mean. He entertained what she now called…playful jests. If anyone had told her that Draco Malfoy would one day be "playful" with her, she would've had them committed to the Janis Thickey Ward. Oh well. She supposed that's what happened when a person grew up.

"Hey!"

Alright, not  _completely_  grown up. Draco had just used a bit of wandless magic to uncover the salt shaker lid as she went to pour some over her food.

"For Merlin's sake," Hermione chided as she used her wand to get rid of the salt. "How old are you?"

"Thirty-two," he replied without missing a beat. Then he smiled. "And sometimes six like my son."

"I think you're six all the time."

"That may be true. You're fun to annoy."

Hermione tried to glare at him, but she laughed instead. At least he was honest. With a sigh she began to eat food she had never tried before. The restaurant Draco had suggested was new to her. It was designed for parents: an indoor eating area with glass walls. The eating area for kids was outside as well as a play area (both magically temperature-controlled). This way parents could eat in peace while still keeping an eye on their kids. From where they sat, Rose, Hugo, and Scorpius were all plainly visible and having a grand time on a jungle gym.

"You do realize that we're stuck together, right?"

Hermione looked up from her eating and furrowed her brow. "What do you mean?"

"Look at them," Draco gestured with his head to the children. "When Scorpius told his mother that he was going to see his friend Rose play wizard's chess last month and that he was going to sit with his friend Hugo, I knew it then. I knew then and there we'd be carting them back and forth until they're old enough to do that themselves. And look," he motioned with his head to the children again. "Phase one."

"Merlin…" Hermione breathed. She looked up at Draco and then said with (somewhat) mock derision, "Are you saying that I  _actually_  have to set up a Floo connection to you?"

Draco gave a throaty chuckle. "I don't think we have to resort to that monstrosity just yet. Neutral locales as we have been."

"Agreed. I may be tolerant of you to a certain degree, but I'd rather not jump to extremes."

Draco inclined his head with a small upturn of his lips. "Likewise."

"May I bring you another cup of tea?" A waitress came up their table with a pot in her hand. Draco politely said yes and Hermione did the same. When she was finished with Hermione's, the waitress added in a low, soft voice, "I'm terribly sorry for your loss."

All the mirth that Hermione had had for the day died within that instant. Her face grew stern and solemn, and with tightly clasped lips she thanked the waitress and soon she was on her way. Draco had intensely watched the scene unfold and was puzzled.

"People still do that?" He questioned.

She looked up at him. "Do what?"

"What the waitress did. Give you condolences."

"At least once every three or so days," Hermione shrugged.

Draco frowned. "That's bloody terrible."

"It's expected," she said simply. "It's easy to forget sometimes, but Ron, myself and Harry included, is a 'national treasure' for lack of a better term. He'll always be remembered for helping to save the wizarding world. People are saddened by his passing."

"I get that, I do, but," Draco sighed as he pushed his plate away from him. "Let me ask you this in the  _bluntest_  of ways possible. How do you expect to properly move on if people keep reminding you that your husband is dead?"

"No one has to remind me," Hermione replied bitterly. "I'm reminded every time I mistakenly call his name and he doesn't answer me. Or when I… When I have to sleep alone."

It was rare for Draco to be struck speechless, but he was. He sat there, unblinking, until Hermione finally noticed.

"Can we talk about something else, please?"

Draco gave a barely there nod. "Of course. Has… Rose showed any accidental magic yet?"

Hermione gave him a weak smile. She felt like a wreck all the while appreciating the blatant change in subject.

"She has. Hugo too," she answered. "Rose last year and Hugo just three months ago."

"Hugo, huh?" Draco repeated with a stroke of his chin. "He's four, you said?"

"Yes," Hermione happily responded as she picked up her cup. "He's a year too young to go to the Young Wizards' Learning Center like his sister to learn to control it, but I'll enroll him after his birthday next year."

"That's quite impressive, although I shouldn't be surprised. You are his mother, after all."

She nearly dropped her tea.

"Was that a...a  _compliment_ , Malfoy?"

"A fact, Granger," Draco clarified. "If I ever give you a compliment, you'll know it."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco! I think his statement, "Let me ask you this in the bluntest of ways possible" defines his overall demeanor as well as his behavior towards Hermione (as will become more apparent as the story goes moves along!).
> 
> And for the French tidbits: Fleur tells her daughter not to run and she replies that she likes to. Scorpius, the adorable little person, says that he does too, but his father doesn't like it :)
> 
> -WP


	5. Parental Prying

_November 14th, 2012_

"I hear you've been spending time with a lonely mother of two lately," Theo said, sporting a drink in one hand and a set of muggle playing cards in the other. He and the blond were indulging in the latter's "former" gambling problem. Sorry, no, his " _well-controlled habit."_  Draco liked to play cards with a couple coins once in a while. Although, considering Theo was now down the hole with four hundred galleons gone, those coins were a bit more than a couple.

"Where on earth did you hear that?" Draco replied, completely affronted by the accusation. Theo was all smiles.

"So is that a confirmation of my statement?"

"It's a yes and no. We're out together yes, but with Scorpius and her children. They're friends, you know."

"Ah yes," Theo nodded. He took a sip of his drink before throwing out a card. "The unlikely friendship of a Malfoy and a Weasley."

Draco grimaced. "Hell, Theo, did you have to say that? It makes me cringe."

The brown-haired man snorted. "You're with them all the time. Why should you cringe?"

"First and foremost, it's not 'all the time.' Second, when I'm with them I don't think about Weasley. All I can see is Granger."

Theo grinned and snuggled back into his seat. "You'd better be careful. Separation period for your divorce and all that."

"I have nothing to worry about," Draco reassured as he picked up and tossed a card, also adding in a couple more galleons. "Granger and I are in each other's company by circumstance. And  _if_ , by chance, we're alone while the children play, we're always in their eyesight and them in ours. No one can ever accuse me of not giving my marriage 'a fair shot' by cavorting about with women."

"Wo _man_. Singular. And often."

"Circumstance and with children," the blond repeated. "Ante up."

Theo briefly scowled. "What am I supposed to ante up with? All my money is sitting on  _your_  side of the bloody table."

Draco smiled broadly and gestured to his friend's wrist with a lift of his chin. "You've got a watch."

Theo looked down, his eyes widening, and his lips pulling into a tight clasp.

"Well-controlled habit my arse," he grumbled as he eased the watch off of his wrist.

* * *

_November 20th, 2012_

Draco often found himself bored during the week. He had no job because he didn't need one. As far as he was concerned Scorpius was his only career, and back in France he had been with him every moment. Now he was just a part-time parent, and it was the one thing about this divorce that he hated. The fact that, despite joint custody, he wouldn't have Scorpius twenty-four hours a day, every day. He'd have to allot time to Astoria and vice versa.

At least the boy would get his wish and keep his two bedrooms.

Draco sighed dramatically and looked at the clock. It was barely two in the afternoon. Theo would be at work until six. That gave him four hours to kill. But to do what exactly?

Roam around London, apparently. Draco had gotten dressed in better clothes and taken to the streets. Muggle ones. He only dared to venture into wizard territory if he had to or if he was with someone. It was easier to drown out the glares and rude remarks if he had someone to talk to. When he was alone, however, he quite preferred his anonymity.

And so he wandered. He went into a shop or two with no intentions of buying anything since he had mistakenly left his magi-debit at home. A lovely invention he'd come across in France and that, to his utter joy, had come to England as well. It was a debit card tied to a magical bank, but took on the appearance of a muggle one. And when he used it, the currency automatically exchanged from galleons to pounds. It made his frequent trips into the Muggle world very useful.

And so he eyeballed a few contraptions that (still) confused him like a microwave and a toaster, making sure to consult his books later. He even went into a toy store to see what he could buy for his son at a later date when he actually had his magi-debit on him.

That so happened to be where he found Granger. Without her children. Draco frowned, instantly remembering his conversation with Theo, and turned to leave. However, he was easily recognizable and hard to miss.

"Not to be rude, but what are you doing in muggle London?" Hermione asked once she got close enough.

Draco shrugged. "When I have nothing to do I prefer to come here."

"To shop among  _muggles…?_ "

Draco could feel himself getting upset at the insinuation, but he didn't want to lash out at the woman, not to mention cause a scene.

"I thought we came to terms with the fact that I'm not the same person I was as a teenager?"

Hermione instantly bit her tongue and nodded. "Yes, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that." She looked away in a fit of well-deserved shame and took a deep breath. "So, you're…here buying something for Scorpius?"

Draco smiled. The brunette was a right sight to see when she put her foot in her mouth.

"Well, I'm not here to buy anything for myself," he replied cheekily. "I just figured I'd make a note of what to get him. Something for him to come home to."

"I was just about to ask you where he was. I never see you without him."

Draco tensed. He realized now, a little too late, that he had said too much. It wasn't revealing in itself, but it had led to her question, and most likely another.

"... He's with his mother."

Hermione's face lit up. This was the first time he had spoken of her since Rose's tournament.

"Oh, well that's lovely," she said happily. "From personal experience I can tell you that a mother-son bond truly is extraordinary. It's good to have that quality time."

"Yes, I suppose so."

"What are you planning on doing with him later?"

_Damn this woman and her questions!_

"I won't see him tonight," Draco said plainly. "I'll see him Friday evening, as I always do, every weekend."

Hermione's face fell gradually as he spoke, and Draco felt even more vulnerable as it did.

"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "I didn't know."

"Don't feel bad, Granger. Once my divorce is final I promised myself that I'd go dancing to celebrate."

Hermione balked. "Dancing? Your marriage is ending and you want to celebrate?"

"More than you know," Draco admitted. "Not everyone gets their fairytale ending."

She frowned deeply. "Unfortunately, I have to agree with that."

Draco was uncomfortable now, and it wasn't because they were talking about Astoria. Hermione was wallowing in her sadness as he'd seen her do on a number of occasions since their children became friends. It unnerved him.

"Help me pick out something for my son, Granger."

Hermione blinked. "What?"

"A toy," he pointed to some on a shelf. "For Scorpius."

"You need my help for that?"

"I prefer the word 'want.' And I  _always_  get what I want," Draco said smugly. Hermione couldn't help but roll her eyes at that and groan loud enough for him to hear, but not for anyone else, as he gently pulled her along by the elbow.

"You're an annoying pest, you know that?" Hermione grumbled.

Draco said nothing, but he did agree. At least she was too busy whining about him to think of her husband.

* * *

_December 7th, 2012_

Draco was on the verge of committing suicide. His  _only_  saving grace was his son, whom he thought of often, or else he would've snatched the quick-notes quill from Monsieur Durand's hand long ago and jammed it into own his neck.

"Draco? Are you listening?  _Draco?_   _Tu m'écoutes?_ "

The blond blinked and refocused his gaze on his and Astoria's marriage counselor. His wife in question was fuming.

"You see?" She complained. "He doesn't listen to me."

Draco cocked a brow and leaned back further in his seat. "And  _you_  don't listen to  _me_. We go our separate ways, Astoria. Always have ever since we realized during year one that we had absolutely  _nothing_  in common. I don't know why it matters to you now."

Astoria groaned and yanked on her hair. "It matters because you want to divorce me! You didn't even try to make it work."

"Oh, I tried," Draco snapped icily as he glared at her. "Every year I stayed past our fifth year anniversary mark was me trying. I could've filed for divorce the very next day, as per the marriage agreement, but I didn't because Scorpius was only two and he deserved more than a broken home."

Astoria frowned and began to twirl the ends of her hair with her finger. A nervous habit of hers. "And I commend you for that, I do. But what about what  _we_  deserved, Draco? Did you ever think about that?"

"Did you?" He shot back. Then he smiled mischievously as he crossed his arms over his chest. "We've been having these monthly sessions since August. I don't recall you ever mentioning to Monsieur Durand your trists during years six through eight."

Her ears turned beat red. "That was  _after_  our marriage was already shaky."

Draco chuckled. "Now who's the one not trying?"

Before she could say anything a bell chimed in the room, signaling that their time was up.

"Until next month," Draco said as he rose from his seat. He then turned to Astoria and added, "I'll pick Scorpius up and bring him back Sunday evening."

With that he exited the room, bid his farewells to Madame Roche, and disapparated as soon as he walked outside. He ended up on a lavish piece of property owned by his parents who visited this French home every December. It was Draco's mother's doing. She thought the home brought a very "Christmassy feel" and had ordained it the official Malfoy holiday home for the past twenty years.

"Dad! Dad, look!" Scorpius said excitedly as he ran up to him. He began to speak so quickly that only half of his words could be understood. "Grand-mère…cadeaux...tôt…incroyable!"

Draco laughed. "Scorpius, slow down. What about grandma and presents?"

Annoyed, the young boy grabbed his father's hand and led him into the main living room. There was already a Christmas tree put up. There were also presents.  _Tons of them._

"I see Scorpius has shown you his Christmas gifts," Narcissa appeared from nowhere. Draco cocked a brow.

" _All_  of these?"

"Of course."

"Mother, where exactly am I supposed to keep all of these things for him?"

"Had you invested in a manor as I suggested, that wouldn't be an issue now," Lucius drawled from his seat. He was in the same living room Scorpius had dragged his father to, sitting in an armchair and sipping on something alcoholic.

"As it were," the elder Malfoy continued. "All of Scorpius' things will stay here and be available to him when he visits."

Scorpius' mouth fell open. "I can't take them home?"

Narcissa smiled and pinched her grandson's cheek when she got close enough. "Afraid not, darling. But it'll be good incentive for your mother and father to bring you to see us more often."

Draco nearly snorted out loud.  _Way to rope that one in, Mother._

"How is counseling?" Lucius asked. Narcissa made sure to send Scorpius to get his things before Draco could answer.

"I'm eight months away from freedom. That's how it's going."

Narcissa tutted. "You shouldn't speak that way about-"

"The woman I was set up with?" Draco replied, an irritated edge lacing his tone.

"Yes," Lucius answered for his wife. "And  _you_  shouldn't speak to your mother that way."

Although very little words, Draco felt properly scolded at that and mumbled an apology before sitting down across from his father. Narcissa soon followed suit.

"I just want it to be over," Draco told them. "Five years and an heir. We've done that. No, we didn't fall in love like either you or her parents wanted, but that alone should make Astoria want a divorce as much as I do."

"Astoria is adamant because she knows that finding another suitor will be next to impossible at her age," Narcissa said. "You, you're fine. You could find another witch at a moment's notice. Framed in that light, she's only looking out for her best interests."

Draco let his snort ring out this time. "So that makes me what? Selfish?"

Narcissa sighed. "It makes things complicated."

"For you, maybe. But it's an easy decision for me because I refuse to live out the rest of my life love-less. And I'm not going to stay married and cheat to avoid it."

"Commendable," Lucius praised. "Am I to assume that you've begun your…hunt for affection?"

Draco's eyes went wide as saucers. "I beg your pardon?"

"Scorpius has informed us that both you and he made new friends during the summer."

"Merlin," the young blond shook his head. "You sound like Theo."

" _Have_ you taken an interest in the wizarding world's heroine?"

"No," he said curtly. "Our children our friends. End of story."

"Well, that sums up Scorpius' association with the muggleborn's children," Lucius smiled. "But what about you and the witch in question?"

Draco let out an exasperated breath. "Why so interested?"

"From your mother's perspective, it's purely out of her need to fuel her nosey nature," He smirked when his wife shot him a dirty glare. "From mine, however, it's to protect ourselves and where we stand in society."

"With all due respect, Father, I'm not listening to that tripe twice," Draco grumbled. "I wouldn't be in the situation I'm in now if that had originally been the case."

"I'm ready!" Scorpius' voice filled the room. Draco was thankful for his son's interruption and got up from his seat.

"Let's go home, little guy," Draco said before giving one last adieu to his parents. "Until next time, and preferably a less interrogative visit?"

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: And here goes a little insight into Draco! I love this chapter a lot because you really get a clear shot of his marital struggles. Not to mention that he's a stay at home daddy! Before the divorce anyway. I feel kind of bad now :/
> 
> -WP


	6. "Things"

_December 16th, 2012_

This was one for the books. It really and truly was. It was the middle of December and far too cold to be outside like in previous months. That meant taking the children to indoor activities. One of said activities involved a playdate inside a parent's home. That was where Hermione found herself now: playing host to Scorpius as he, Rose, and Hugo enjoyed their time in the living room surrounded by toys. She was also playing host to Draco who had come to take Scorpius back home. However, the boy was having too much fun and kept asking his father for "five more minutes."

That had been nearly an hour ago.

"What time does Astoria usually pick Scorpius up?"

"About seven which gives him…" Draco checked his watch. "No more than twenty minutes before I have to actually put my foot down."

Hermione laughed to herself.

"What's so funny?"

"Not funny, per se," she explained. "It's just… I've been watching you parent since August and it still boggles my mind sometimes. We're adults. We've grown up."

Draco hummed in agreement, but didn't say anything. Instead he just watched her cook as he had been shortly after he had come through her fireplace. It smelled heavenly in this kitchen, but he'd be damned if he invited himself to stay. Instead, he was a silent voyeur and was intensely transfixed as she began to get her vegetables in order. It was no different than getting ingredients together for potion-making, but the way Hermione was handling her knife with that carrot was terrifying. Swift upward motion of the wrist, crashing down to the cutting board, a perfectly made slice that was repeated a dozen times over in four seconds, maybe three.

"How do you do that?"

Hermione paused. "Do what?"

"Cut it like that without chopping your fingers along with it?"

Hermione was floored. She looked down at her hands, one poised on the carrot and the other holding her knife. How did you describe the process of slicing a vegetable?

"I… You just… _do._ "

Draco snorted. "A person never just  _does_  anything, Granger. There's a process."

"Well, yes, I know there's a process," Hermione rolled her eyes. "There are just some things that are easier to show than describe." She paused again. "Would you like me to show you?"

Draco felt an inner panic overtake him instantly. He had been merely curious, but not so much as to want to learn how to decimate a vegetable himself. However, there was no way to back out of it now without making a fool of himself. Hermione had backed away from her spot at the counter and stood idly by, waiting for him to join her. Draco reluctantly got up from the other side of her table and stood in front of the bane of his existence. The carrot, not her, like at one point in his past.

"Hold onto the base of the carrot," Hermione instructed from his side. "And spread your fingers a little. You don't want it slipping from you."

Draco's panic was back, but his outer façade was masking it wonderfully.

"Now take the knife."

He did so, holding it by the handle and the point of the blade facing upward, but then he was utterly surprised when the witch to his right began to laugh. Draco scowled. "What?"

"Sorry," she giggled. "But you look like you're ready to stab someone holding it like that."

"How else am I supposed to hold it?" Draco genuinely asked. Hermione smiled at him.

"How in Merlin's name did you pass Potions?"

"My wand and a healthy set of charms and spells. It makes all the difference in the world, don't you think?"

"Ah,  _of course_ ," she shook her head as she walked over to his hand and adjusted his fingers. First with one hand, and then her other, he found his own overrun by her delicate fingers positioning his hand properly.

"Carrot steady?" She asked. She was at least a full head shorter than him, and yet somehow her voice had managed to tickle his ears.

"Yes."

"Okay. We'll do it slowly at first so you don't chop your fingers off."

Hermione still had a hand on his knife hand. She guided it over to the carrot, poised it where it was supposed to go, and pressed her hand down on his so that the sharp utensil did its job. With their hands slightly raised up they repeated the process. They did it several times, increasing in speed, until the carrot was almost fully cut, but Draco was hardly paying attention to the task at hand. He was too hyper-aware of how close Hermione was. Her hand and forearm were resting on his as she directed their task. The left side of her body was gently pressed against his back as well. To top it all off, despite it being well into the evening, there was a fresh shower scent wafting under his nose.

"…and that's all," Hermione finished. Draco looked down and yes, the carrot was completely cut, his fingers still attached. His back and arm felt empty without her against him, but he wouldn't dare think of the implications of him missing her body heat. Instead he looked down at their handiwork.

"That was simple enough."

"It was," she agreed as she took the newly cut vegetable and put it onto the pot onto the stove. "I would suggest watching your house elves cook once in a while. Granted, they're probably using magic but still-"

"I don't have a house elf."

Nothing could have surprised Hermione more. She had been so caught off guard that instead of cutting a new carrot, she had sliced right onto her finger.

"Damn it!"

Draco hastened his steps to Hermione and took her hand in his to see the damage. Nothing too serious despite her shout, and with his wand he was able to clear away the blood and heal the cut fairly easily. He looked up at her and grinned.

"Maybe  _you_  need a house elf."

"Why don't you have one?" Hermione asked, ignoring his quip. Draco looked back down at her hand to make sure that he had done his job properly. After releasing her he leaned against the counter casually and replied,

"Astoria still has them. Three. When the divorce is final and she's not a Malfoy by marriage anymore they'll come back to me. Since that's the case there's no point in getting another one."

Hermione frowned. "Oh."

Draco tilted his head and regarded her intently before smiling. "What's the matter, Granger? Unhappy that I didn't have some house elf welfare epiphany?"

The brunette instantly blushed and busied herself with cleaning up the blood-spoiled carrot on the counter. She didn't answer his question. Instead, she asked something else.

"If cutting a simple carrot eludes you, how do you eat, Malfoy?"

Draco's smile turned into a cheeky, knowing one. "Avoidance. Classy. And for your information I was amazed by how  _you_  cut one, not the entire process. As for your question, I do believe there are places called restaurants that feed you."

Hermione tutted. "You can't do that every day."

"I can and I have. Scorpius loves going out to eat."

"But what about eating indoors? Maybe it's not the same for you, but there's nothing like being at a table with your loved ones in your house and just…bonding. It's a different atmosphere than when you're in a crowded place with strangers."

"When your wife is forced upon you by an arranged marriage, you might as well be eating with a stranger," Draco said seamlessly. So seamlessly, in fact, that one would suggest that he had spent a great deal of time thinking about it. In fact, he had. Ever since he and his parents had discussed his counseling sessions.

Hermione felt her heart sink at his words. She had known that he and his wife were going through a divorce, but she hadn't known, nor asked, the reason why. A loveless, arranged marriage certainly fit the bill. She was uncomfortable now at the revelation, and even he seemed to be unnerved with what he had said. Silence ensued and no one moved.

"Do you like Italian?" Hermione asked after several minutes of quiet. Draco's brows furrowed.

"What?"

"Italian. Food. Do you like it?"

Draco blinked. "I… Well, yes."

"And Scorpius?" She continued. "Does he?"

"He does."

"The children and I have themed dinners. Saturdays are Italian. Dinner is always at seven…if you and Scorpius have nothing else planned."

Draco's tongue felt like a weight in his mouth. Did Hermione Weasley, formerly Granger, just invite him and his son for dinner? It didn't matter if he, himself, had been itching to stay only a moment ago. Having a formal invitation had skewed the picture a bit.

"I'll think about it," Draco said eventually. Hermione nodded in acceptance and finally got back to her food preparations.

* * *

_December 19th, 2012_

"Let's get him this," Rose said as she held out a toy train set, but Hugo shook his head.

"He has that. He told me."

Rose frowned and put it back. Hermione smiled to herself as Hugo pulled his sister along so that they could look at other toys that could be a potential Christmas gift for Scorpius.

"Why don't you take them to George?" Harry asked. Hermione promptly shook her head.

"Not a chance. If George finds out whose gift they're looking for, he'll make it his business for that gift to drive Malfoy up the wall."

Harry smirked. "And that's a bad thing?"

Hermione laughed and smacked him on the arm. "Yes. Things between us are good and I'm not having a silly joke item ruin that."

Harry gave her a peculiar look. "Things? What things?"

She shrugged. "Things, just…  _Things_ , Harry. We don't argue or try to kill each other. Metaphorically speaking. He's actually decent."

"Uh-huh," Harry replied, still giving her a cautious eye. Hermione cocked a brow.

"What?"

"Nothing, it's just…odd knowing you two are so friendly."

Hermione shrugged. "It is a bit, I suppose. But it's better than the alternative, isn't it?"

"Yeah, I guess so," Harry rubbed the back of his head. "But if you guys start having dinners together I might have to start suspecting something."

Hermione tried her hardest to rein in her facial expression, but it was impossible. It was a mixture of confusion and shock as she addressed her friend.

"Harry Potter, are you suggesting that Malfoy and  _I_  are on the verge of having a thing?"

"Hey, you brought up the word 'thing' first!"

"Only because I don't know what to describe it!" Hermione exclaimed. "It's not like we're not exactly friends. We're not enemies either. So…it's a thing. A  _platonic_  thing. With a man. Who also  _might be_  coming to my house for dinner. With his son!" She added at the look on Harry's face.

"If he kisses you goodnight I'm going to find him and cut his lips off."

Hermione immediately rolled her eyes. "Ha ha."

She spied her children looking at yet another toy before shaking their heads and going somewhere else. At this rate they would be in this toy store forever.

"Aside from hosting a dinner that Ginny and I were  _not_  invited to," Harry commented, making her feign snoring. "What else are you doing for the holiday? Christmas dinner at Molly's for sure, but what else?"

"I was actually going to ask you about that," Hermione said slowly. She was fidgeting too which certainly didn't go unnoticed by her friend. "The kids and I are going to stay with Molly for Christmas Eve as well as Christmas. I should be okay for the rest of the week, but for New Year's Eve, I was hoping that you wouldn't mind if we…?"

"You don't even have to ask," Harry finished quickly. "You, Rose, and Hugo are always welcome at our house." He paused then and rocked back on his heels. "You've been pretty good this month. To be honest, I expected worse."

"You want worse? You should see me in my bedroom at night. It's a horrible sight."

Harry grimaced. "I'm sorry-"

"Don't be," she politely interrupted. "When the holiday season is over, I'll feel better. At least I hope so."

* * *

_December 22, 2012_

Draco held a list in his hand and a self-inking quill. Scorpius was at his side, happily eating chocolate as they walked down the busy Diagon Alley street.

"Okay," Draco said as he crossed things off. "We've got presents for your grandparents on both sides, something for your friends back in France,  _something for your mum_ ," he added in a low grumble. "And something for Rose and Hugo. I think we're done, mate."

"Wh' 'bout-?"

"Swallow, then speak, Scorpius."

"What about Rose and Hugo's mum?" He asked after doing as his father said. Draco looked down at his son oddly as he folded their Christmas gift list.

"Why would I get her a present?"

Scorpius' mouth dropped. "What do you mean? You have to! She's going to feel bad when she gives you a present and you don't have one for her!"

Draco cracked a smile. "What makes you think that she's going to give me a present?"

"She's a nice lady," he said simply. "That's what people do when they're nice."

Scorpius continued eating his chocolate like he hadn't said the most profound thing a six-year-old could ever say. Now Draco was stuck. If he didn't get Hermione something his son was going to badger him about it until he did, or he'd badger him about why he didn't. Basically, his little boy was his walking, talking subconscious and Draco had no choice but to obey.

But what would he get her? Draco hardly knew anything about the brunette to find a present that she might like. The  _one_  thing that he was sure of was that she was a complete sucker for knowledge and liked to read. It sounded easy, but the woman had a voracious reading habit. Odds were that whatever he chose to get her she would've already read and therefore render his gift pointless. And was a book even a good gift?

"Hell, this is hard," Draco grumbled.

Scorpius looked up at him and poked him in the leg. "You're not supposed to swear."

Draco chuckled and took his son's free hand. "Sorry, won't happen again."

* * *

_December 29th, 2012_

"Merry Christmas!" Scorpius said loudly as he tumbled out of the fireplace holding two gifts. Draco pulled him by the collar quickly before he fell forward and broke something. Namely himself.

"Sometimes I think you like giving me a heart attack, kid," Draco said as he righted him. Laughter came from up ahead and he looked up.

"I say the same thing about them," Hermione commented, motioning to her children as they ran down the stairs after her.

"Merry Christmas, Scorpius!" Both Rose and Hugo shouted as they got up to him. The parents were promptly forgotten and they grinned.

"Put the presents under the tree, alright?" Hermione told them. "We'll open them after we eat."

"Aw," they all brooded. Draco shook his head and then gestured to the tree that stood in the corner of the living room.

"You heard her."

Hermione had led the way into the kitchen first. Although, however, many steps ahead she was of Draco and the children, she could still hear them.

"Our mum worked really hard today!"

Hermione cringed at that. Regardless, it was true. She had been planning this dinner since Christmas, taking note of what Molly had made and how she could recreate that wonderful family flourish within her Italian theme. Her desire, her  _need_  to do this really, partly stemmed from trying to keep herself busy so as not to remember that this was her first holiday without Ron. The other part came from her need to give Draco and Scorpius a  _true_  family dinner. Draco's words about his wife had stayed with her. They'd hurt her, if she was being honest. Neither he nor his son deserved that and she'd be damned if she didn't change it.

"They weren't kidding," Draco chuckled as he eyed everything. Bruschetta, calzones, two different types of pasta: lasagna and ravioli. There were various breads too, and he swore that he heard Hugo talking about how much he couldn't wait for dessert.

"Merlin, Granger," he breathed. "Are you compensating for something?"

Hermione tensed immediately and she prayed that he didn't notice. "I like to cook."

Draco nodded. "Obviously."

She nervously laughed and immediately began putting all the dishes on the table. She even had to magically expand it a bit so everything could fit. Okay, maybe she  _did_  go a bit overboard, but it was worth it to see how excited Scorpius looked. Rose and Hugo, despite their manners, began digging in first. She could hardly blame them considering that she'd been shooing them away from the kitchen as she prepped and cooked for the past two days. They were entitled to finally get a taste, and as it turned out, the dinner was well received and the conversation flowed.

"...and he pushed me down," Hugo was saying. He had just retold the story of how he'd gotten the best snowman he'd ever built knocked down by some big kid in the park just before Christmas.

"What did you do after he pushed you?" Draco asked. Hugo sat back in his seat and grumbled.

"Nothing."

"Why nothing? He did knock you down after all."

"Mum says it's not good to get back at someone when they're mean to you."

Draco's eyes lit up with amusement as he slyly glanced at Hermione. "Oh really? Did your mother ever tell you about the time she punched me in the face when we were kids?"

Hermione's fork clattered to her plate while Rose and Hugo gasped and Scorpius laughed.

"Dad, you let a girl hit you?"

"She caught me off-guard," Draco answered his son before fully turning to Hermione on his right. "Well?"

Hermione huffed lightly and picked up her fork to continue eating. "That was different."

"Was it?" He teased. "Do tell. And don't forget that young ones are listening."

_I could throttle him._

She took a deep breath and sent a glare towards Draco, soft glances at her children, an even softer glance at Scorpius before groaning and rolling her eyes.

"Alright, alright, fine. It was a terrible thing to do, I should've controlled my temper, and  _none of you_  are to follow my poor example."

The children were all in hysterics and Draco gently shook his head at her as he helped himself to more bread.

"I'll get you back for that, you know," Hermione whispered to him. Draco shrugged.

"Perhaps, but not in front of innocent eyes, so I'm safe for the moment."

That, unfortunately, was true. Once dinner was over the second part of the night was underway: gift-giving. Hermione and Draco sat close to one another on one of the couches while their children gave each other their presents and jumped for joy at what they had received. Hugo got a toy quidditch pitch set with his favorite teams as figurines. Rose got a new wizard's chess game with pieces that played on their own so she wouldn't need an opponent. It was obvious that Draco's hand had been heavy in that particular gift, and Hermione thanked him profusely. It had been revealed at some point that Scorpius had a Legos obsession, and so Rose and Hugo (with mummy's money) had chipped in to buy him a brand new Lego set to build Buckingham Palace. It would take him a millennia to complete, but he seemed quite up for the challenge.

"He'll never go to bed now," Draco pouted as he watched his son open his lego box set and began putting pieces together. "Thanks for that, Granger."

Hermione giggled. "Don't thank me yet. You still have to open yours."

Draco felt a wave of both gratitude and admiration for this witch at her words and hid the reddening of his cheeks by turning his gaze to his lap. Hermione came back from picking up a small box from under her tree and gently pushed it into his hands. He stared at it for countless seconds, barely hearing Hermione's, "Merry Christmas."

Without opening it he said, "Scorpius was right about you."

Hermione stared at him curiously and held back a full grin. "What did he say?"

Draco finally looked up. Her need to find out information, even something as small as what a child had to say, was a great one. Her face was full of expression, an exuberant sort of contentment that usually disappeared when reminded of unsavory things. He found himself hoping that her happiness could stay for once.

"You're nice," Draco told her, and he meant it. Her contentment seemed to shoot up tenfold and she gestured to the present still in his hand.

"Are you going to open it?"

"Yes, of course," he undid the wrapping and then he laughed. Not a conventional gift by far, but what it represented was better than what he could've possibly imagined.

Three galleons.

She had gifted him three galleons plus an  _IOU_.

"I know it's been some four months," she told him. "But I never did say thank you for that day when you brought me lunch in my office."

Draco nodded. "You know, that's not really something you thank someone for. It was an apology."

"I still contend that it wasn't, but that's beside the point," Hermione chuckled. "The lunch was very good. Also…you lied."

Draco furrowed his brow in confusion. "What do you mean?"

"I went to the restaurant a couple of weeks later to get it again, but lo and behold, it was  _not_  less than three galleons. Malfoy, that was a ridiculous amount of money you spent."

"Not to be rude, but what may be ridiculous to you is completely fine for me. As for my fibbing, would you have taken it if you knew how expensive it was?"

Hermione snorted. "Of course not."

"Hence why I lied," Draco smiled. "I'm guessing you didn't eat there that day."

"Absolutely not," she shook her head. "I pretended that I had an emergency and promptly left."

"We should go then."

Hermione's heart involuntarily gave a massive thump against her chest. "We? As in…you and me?"

"That  _is_  the very definition of 'we,' Granger," Draco replied, observing how much her skin had flushed.

"I know that; don't be cheeky."

"But that's my specialty."

She had to admit that he had a point there, and so she surrendered to fits of gut-busting laughter until tears had sprung to her eyes.

"So it's a date then?" Draco asked. His eyes went wide and Hermione's amusement died in that instant, but he quickly righted himself. In a poor fashion. "Not a  _date_  date. I didn't mean that. Just a date like...a time and a place. A… A…"

Hermione's lips curled upwards the more he spoke. Eventually she folded her arms and said, "I don't think I've ever heard you stutter before."

Draco stopped talking immediately and scowled. "I wasn't stuttering."

"Oh, I beg to differ," Hermione teased.

" _I was not stuttering._ "

"Okay, okay," she relented, although still clearing teasing him. "You weren't stuttering."

Draco groaned and lolled his head back briefly. "Do you want to go or not, Granger? Yes or no?"

"Yes."

"Good, now let's stop talking about it."

Hermione was having the best time at his expense. Truly. She leaned closer to him, almost startling him by invading his personal space, and said, "We still haven't picked a time or a  _date_ , Malfoy."

"I take back what I said about you being nice," he grumbled. "I think I should just keep your present tucked in my pocket and take it back home."

Hermione stared at him with an incredulous look. "Would you  _truly_  be that petty?"

"You don't know me very well if you think I wouldn't be."

"Touché. 'Malfoy' and 'petty' are quite synonymous. Can I have my gift now?"

Draco deeply chuckled, but conceded nonetheless. He reached into his pocket and plucked out a box only slightly bigger than what she had given him and allowed her to take it. Hermione opened it and was instantly confused. There was a button inside as well as a slip of parchment with what she assumed was a spell.

"Alright…" she said slowly. "My gift to you made sense. As for this, however, I'm at a total loss."

"Well, if I left instructions on it that would ruin the surprise," Draco answered matter-of-factly. "It's a portkey and it can be activated at any time with the spell listed. It'll reactivate to bring you back home after two days."

"And it's to go where?"

"The Wigglesworth Magical Museum."

Hermione's mouth flopped open. The Wigglesworth Magical Museum was home to wizarding history. From magic pre-Merlin and after to significant moments in the wizarding world, everything a person wanted to know or was interested in was right there. For the brunette, it was the physical, uneven equivalent to Hogwarts, A History, and on a much grander scale.

A smug expression filled Draco's features as he watched her work through her emotions and, seeing at how the box in her hands looked like it was going to tip over, he gently slipped it from her and set it on the coffee table in front of them.

"Granger?" He grinned as he waved a hand in front of her face. "I take it that you  _like_  your Christmas gift?"

She snapped her mouth shut. "Of course, I do!" She half-shouted, glanced at the children playing with their toys not more than eight feet away before continuing at a normal speech. "But wait, two days? Malfoy, despite the museum being free to enter, lodgings around there are terribly expensive."

"Just tell me when you plan to go. I'll take care of it."

"You'll…?  _You'll take care of it?_ " Hermione repeated. Flabbergasted, shocked, and at a loss for words were all far too little descriptions of how she was feeling. "Malfoy, I can't. This is too much.  _Especially_  considering all I gave you were a couple galleons!"

"It's fine," Draco encouraged her. "What you gave me was both comical and enjoyable, if I don't say so myself. And," he added as he gave her back the gift, "in all honesty, it was fair. You hardly know me well enough to know what I'd like."

"Oh, and a portkey to another country and a guarantee that your hotel is paid for two nights is something you give someone you don't know that well?" She countered. Draco shrugged.

"Was it that much of a leap to think that you'd appreciate it?" He asked. "It's common knowledge that you like learning. If that wasn't the case, I'd be screwed in the gift-giving department."

Hermione frowned and looked down at the portkey. "I don't know…"

"Don't think on it," Draco shook his head. "It's done. You like the gift, and I'm satisfied."

"No, it is not ' _just done!'_ " Hermione grumbled like a child. " _You_ , Draco Malfoy, are…are…going to open up more. It's obvious that I need to get to know you better."

Draco's face lit up at that and she couldn't understand why. Until he opened his mouth that is.

"Do my ears deceive me? Did you just insinuate that you want  _to get to_   _know me better?_ "

Hermione felt her face flush and she leaned back onto the couch. "I... _might have_ , yes."

"Well, well, well!" Draco exclaimed sarcastically with a hand over his chest. "My heart can beat again. I can finally stop crying into my pillow now that you've taken an interest in me."

She gasped loudly and shifted to face him. "Well, that's just absurd!" Hermione stopped abruptly, realized what she said and then frantically backpedaled. "Not that it would be  _wrong_  to have an interest. Any woman would-" She paused again. "Not that I... But it's still not…. Um…"

Draco was smiling like a cheshire cat. "Doesn't feel good when it's happening to you, now does it?"

Hermione closed her mouth. At the realization of what had just transpired she grumpily resettled herself with her back against the couch and folded her arms over her chest.

"I loathe you."

"The feeling is mutual."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My favorite line: "What's the matter, Granger? Unhappy that I didn't have some house elf welfare epiphany?" It goes right on the list with "I'm going to house elf hell" from Anonymity lol. Just want to give a general THANK YOU to everyone who's been following along so far. I really appreciate it :)
> 
> -WP


	7. Ringing in the Year

_December 31st, 2012_

Hermione liked company. She liked it most when it was her family because they knew her and she knew them. And they all understood how difficult of a time this holiday season would be for her because they were missing Ron too.

When it was Christmas, Hermione and the kids had spent the time with Molly as originally planned. Weasleys galore had trickled in and out that day making it quite difficult to remember that this was her first Christmas without her husband. And, thank Merlin, that happened to be the case for Rose and Hugo too. In addition to making sure that she was coping alright, those two little ones had been given priority in both attention and presents. Naturally, they had cared more about the presents.

And now it was New Year's Eve. The hard part was over, Hermione thought. Christmas was about being with loved ones, while New Year's Eve was spent bringing in a new year. It was less family-oriented and that calmed her.

“And here you go!” Harry said, utterly energetic and lively and reminiscent of the time he drank Felix Felicis.

Hermione eyed him warily as she took the glass of champagne he was offering. “How many of these have you had?”

“Two tops,” he replied, adding shortly after, “and half of a third.”

Hermione laughed before taking a sip of her champagne. “This is the only night I'm allowing you to get completely sloshed, Mr. Potter.”

“Thank you, mum.”

The brunette shook her head and turned her attention to Charlie who seemed even less level-headed than Harry.

“Thirty seconds everyone!” Charlie announced, pointing to the wrist that _didn't_ hold his watch.

Hermione slapped her palm to get forehead and checked her own watch. Surprisingly, drunk or not, Charlie could still tell time. Soon everyone was counting down and waiting for fireworks to be shot off in the distance.

“Ten! Nine! Eight! Seven! Six! Five! Four! Three! Two! One! _Happy New Year!_ ”

Hermione had screamed along with everyone. In a poor decision she had gulped down the rest of her champagne, but her children were asleep, so no need for parenting tonight. Everyone around her was paired off with their significant other and had begun kissing him or her.

As she was accustomed doing, Hermione turned to kiss Ron, but then stopped abruptly when she realized that he wasn't there. He would never be there again. No more ringing in a new year with the love of her life. Instead, she would be alone, forever clinging onto memories of her precious past, wishing that it could be her future too.

“Hermione?” Arthur tapped her on the shoulder. “Hermione, are you alright?”

She faced him and regretted it. She only knew that she was crying because of how crestfallen he suddenly looked. Arthur said nothing but wrapped an arm around her and escorted her back inside the house.

“It's alright. It's alright,” Arthur soothed as he rubbed her back. “Let it out.”

Hermione was sobbing like an infant. She was sure the only reason no one could hear her was because of the fireworks.

Arthur sat her down on the living room sofa and then promptly went to get her some water. When she got it she drank it in one go and let out a haggard breath when she was finished.

“I'm sorry,” Hermione apologized, but Arthur shook his head.

“You have _nothing_ to be sorry for,” Arthur replied. “There's no shame in missing him. I miss him too.”

Hermione swallowed. She began to feel more tears coming on, but despite having someone who could sympathize, there was still something missing that he would never grasp that made her isolated in her grief.

“You don't have to stay,” Hermione said. “I'll be fine.”

“Are you sure?”

“I am. Promise.”

“If you say so. But just remember that we're right outside if you need us.”

Hermione nodded. “Of course.”

Arthur left, looking back intermittently before he was gone completely. Hermione sighed. It was good to get her cries out now, she supposed. Maybe it would let her sleep tonight. In the meantime, she just stayed rooted where she was. She was in her own little element, trying to get her balance back when something light and white flew to her and landed on her knee.

Puzzled, Hermione picked it up and unfolded it upon realizing that the partial black curls and swirls on it were script.

When she read it she smiled. A true, genuine smile that washed away part, but certainly not all, of her pain.

Hermione summoned a self-inking quill from somewhere in the house and wrote a response. She sent it off in the same fashion she received it and sat back on the sofa with a sense of contentment neatly settled in her heart.

…………………………………………………..

“I can't believe no one in Franny’s circle hasn't taken you to a muggle pub yet,” Draco said as he signaled the barman to give him and Theo two shots of something putrid.

“I doubt that'll happen anytime soon,” Theo replied as he took the drink. “Her muggle folk never really understood or appreciated the magic bit. They're straight terrified I'm going to turn one of them into a tea kettle or something.”

Draco chuckled and placed his drink to his lips. “Oh, I can't wait for you two to have magical children. That'll be a riot then.”

Theo choked and stared at him wide-eyed. “We’ve been dating six months, mate. _Six._ ”

“I got married with a month’s worth of ‘dates’ under my belt,” Draco shrugged. “I think you're fine.”

Theo shook his head and looked around. It was no different than the Leaky Cauldron or anything similar. There were tables. There were booths. There was a bar table. There was liquor. There was also an insane amount of people to drink said liquor. And those muggle TV things.

It was a full night because it was New Year's Eve. Normally, he'd be celebrating such an event with Franny, but before she met him she and her family had bought tickets to fly in a muggle death trap to visit extended family in the States. He figured he'd spend the time with Draco then who had promptly grabbed his arm and disapparated the moment he'd gotten out of the fireplace. They ended up a few blocks from this alcoholic tavern.

“Do muggles always gather to places like this for the holidays?” Theo asked. He was used to lavish gatherings for things like this. Not dark, drunk-infested locales with sparse Christmas and New Year's decorations strewn about.

“Not all,” Draco told him. “Usually ones who've got no one to celebrate with or nowhere to go. Or,” he smirked as he spied a group of friends egging on a guy chugging a long tube of something dark. “If they just like to drink.”

“Do you think my godson managed to stay awake to ring in the New Year this time?”

Draco gave a grim smile. “I wish I knew. He told me that Astoria and _her friend_ were going to take him to some waterfront. So, either he toughed it out, or he barely made it and one of them is carrying him.”

Theo frowned. He knew that his friend was imagining Astoria's lover of the month handling his son. It never did sit well with Draco, other men in Scorpius’ life. _Especially_ when the divorce had yet to happen.

“Look alive, mate,” Theo elbowed him. “They're showing it on the telly-thing.”

Draco looked up, and yes the countdown for 2013 was in the works. He quickly got the barkeep to fill his and Theo's glasses and they raised them.

“Five! Four! Three! Two! One! _Happy New Year!_ ”

They drank. The pub was in an uproar. People were kissing each other and Theo was extremely put off.

“It's what they do,” Draco explained. “Kiss someone at midnight.”

Theo furrowed his brow. Then he raised a wary finger at Draco before saying, “Hey, don't you look over here like that.”

Draco laughed. “As many feminine features you have, Theo, I'd much rather a woman.”

“Piss off,” Theo grumbled.

Draco shook his head. He was happy. Drunk happy, but happy nonetheless. He stared around the room, noticing how everyone here had someone. A friend. A lover.  Just…someone.

And just like that his thoughts drifted to Hermione. She had friends, yes. But friends couldn't replace a lover. He'd seen her falter so many times since August, and at the simplest things too. He could imagine now how much she must be suffering.

“I'll be right back,” Draco told Theo. “Heading to the loo.”

Draco picked up a napkin on the way and went to the restroom. Once he was sure it was empty, he used his wand to write out in delicate script,

_Happy New Year._

_Dinner tomorrow (or today rather)? 7?_

_Draco_

He transfigured it into a bird and let it fly out of the window, hoping that any muggle that saw it wouldn't think it was real.

Later on that night (or morning), Draco found the same bird-napkin on his bed. When he read the contents he grinned.

Draco needed all the sleep he could get plus a hangover potion.

He had a dinner tonight.

……………………………………………….

_January 1st, 2013_

Hermione had been standing in front of her closet for nearly an hour. She was no longer dripping in shower water and had dried naturally while under her bathrobe. At the rate she was biting her nails she wouldn't have any room for dinner.

Hermione was at a bit of a loss. She was all nerves about what to wear for her date that wasn't a date with Draco. And because this date was more or less a simple outing, without the children (who were being babysat by her parents), in a nice restaurant, and in the evening, clothing choice was crucial.

She couldn't very well show up in jeans and a decent blouse like she normally would when she was in his company. Not to mention the restaurant probably wouldn't admit them. With a sigh, Hermione dove into her closet one more time.

Hermione refused to wear black. Black was a mourning color and by now she despised it. The unfortunate part was that black signified a classy look. She wouldn't look like she was trying too hard. Or trying, period. And so she frowned at a red dress. She never really cared for pink, but only wore it on an evening out because Ron liked to see her in it. There was always this purple one Ron loved, but Hermione would rather drop dead than wear it. It was a tad... _short._

Eventually, Hermione paused on a sapphire-colored dress that she thought was elegant enough for the restaurant, tame enough to still put her and Draco's meet-up out of the “date” category, and allowed her to appreciate her figure.

And so she dressed, deciding to only use eyeliner and to completely forgo lipstick. A simple lip shine would do the trick.

The fireplace went off just as Hermione slipped on her second shoe and she nearly stumbled over herself. Luckily she didn't, and she was able to _calmly_ head downstairs with a warm cloak and scarf in her hands.

As for Draco, despite sleeping for nine hours, taking a Sobering Up potion, and sleeping for yet another hour, he still felt hungover. This, he crudely determined, was life's way of saying he was too old to drink like someone in his early twenties. It made him shiver just thinking about it.

“If you're cold indoors maybe you should've brought a scarf.”

“I'm fine, I just-” Draco immediately stopped talking. Hermione had just reached the bottom of the stairs and, he had no choice but to admit, she looked...well... _good._ He hadn't seen this witch so gussied up since the Yule Ball. Ironically enough, she had also been wearing blue, albeit a lighter shade.

“Malfoy?” Hermione called. “Malfoy, what were you saying? You just stopped mid-sentence.”

Draco blinked. She was in front of him now and he was thoroughly embarrassed. However, he played it off by putting a hand on his chin and saying,

“Hmm, you clean up well.”

Hermione cocked a brow. “I can't tell if that's an insult or not.”

“Oh, I think with our history you'd know whether what I said was an insult or not.”

Hermione let a curl come to her lips and tilted her head. “Very true.”

“Shall we go then?” Draco said as he took Hermione's cloak from her. Like a perfect gentleman he helped her into it, and she wondered if he was just being nice or if this was an engraved set of manners.

Hermione wrapped her scarf around her neck and then hooked her arm with his so that they could disapparate. They were at the apparation spot within moments and at once she was cursing the weather.

“It's absolutely _freezing!_ ”

Draco chuckled. “So, I see that scarf was pointless then, eh Granger?”

Hermione rolled her eyes as Draco took out his wand and put up a shield around them to combat the wind as they walked to the restaurant.

“You know, I've always meant to ask. Why do you insist on calling me 'Granger’ still? That hasn't been my name in a very long time.”

“While that may be true, you'll always be ‘Granger’ to me. Calling you anything else would just be…wrong.”

Hermione stole a glance at him as the restaurant neared. “Including my first name?”

“That too,” Draco answered, and now it was his turn to look at her. “Have you ever considered calling _me_ by my first name?”

“Once or twice,” she admitted. “But I agree with you. It was wrong in every way.”

Draco smiled. As they finally reached the restaurant Hermione now realized that she had never really seen this place at night. It seemed...fancier (and more expensive) with all of the lights inside, the chandeliers above glowing brighter than during the day.

“Ah, Mr. Malfoy,” the maître d’ greeted. “On time as I expected. I’ll escort you and Ms. Weasley to your table myself.”

“Thank you.”

The maître d’ led the way through the restaurant in an odd way. Instead of heading towards the bulk of the free tables in plain view, they travelled along the back wall to their right until they made it to a very secluded corner with only one table and two chairs. The setup caught Hermione entirely by surprise and she stood frozen although Draco had left her side to pull out her chair.

“No one will see us if we sit here,” he explained, rightly discerning her facial expression. He'd been worried about her reaction from the beginning, but it had to be done. “Terms of my divorce process. I have to put forward a ‘sincere effort’ to preserve my marriage. If anyone sees us, it might get back to Astoria somehow, and then the divorce will take longer.”

“Oh,” was all Hermione could say. While she understood the secrecy was for _his_ sake, she appreciated it too. The last thing she needed was a Daily Prophet article about her moving on from her husband and onto the enemy. Those reporters and writers could be nosy little bastards at times.

“How did you spend last night?” Hermione asked after a waiter came and took down their drink orders.

“Drunk. You?”

“Miserably.”

“Fun,” he sarcastically mused. “I can't remember what happened last night and clearly you shouldn't. I think that requires a change in topic.”

Hermione laughed. “Fair enough. Um...today's the first day of a new year. What's your resolutions?”

Draco took a sip of his water. “Well, divorce is certainly number one,” he happily sighed. “Other than that? Find ways not to be bored silly on a daily basis? Get used being back in England?”

“Malfoy, you've been back here for months.”

“Yes, but where have I been?”

Hermione let a brow of hers raise. “Should I know?”

“Funnily enough, you should,” Draco nodded. “Between you, Theo, and my son, I don't spend much time with other people.”

Aside from any comments about his wife, that was the most candid thing Draco had ever said. And laced with loneliness too.

“Well, let's see. I've realized that you go to muggle London a lot which, I'm sorry to say, still baffles me. You go out to a lot of restaurants, but from what you tell me about them they're not very public places. They're quiet and out of the way…”

Hermione paused and her gaze softened as she stared at him. Draco was feeling self-conscious, she could tell. If the red in his cheeks didn't do it, the way he hungrily took his wine from the waiter certainly did.

“You left England so quickly after the war.”

“Not quick enough,” Draco replied. “And even after all these years the atmosphere is still the same.”

“Why come back then?” Hermione asked. “Or better yet, why stay?”

“I came back because I had nowhere else to go. As for staying, well…” He shrugged and tried to fight off  yet another a blush. “Scorpius made two new friends last year. I can't take him away from them, now can I?”

Hermione grinned. She detected his unease easily and decided to poke the dragon.

“There _is_ such thing as apparation and the Floo, you know. Portkeys? Owls?”

“Splinching has a higher incidence rate across country lines, Floo doesn't work either unless there's a permit, portkeys require applications in advance, and owls take forever at times.”

“Merlin,” Hermione breathed. “You've really thought about this, haven't you?”

“A bit,” he mumbled.

“Rose and Hugo really do like him. He's their best friend. As for you, you need more friends than just Theo. You… You can't isolate yourself from people.”

“I don't know,” Draco shrugged lazily. Or perhaps nervously if his finger-drumming was anything to go by. “I'm financially stable so I don't _have_ to work. Never have. When Scorpius was born he was, and still is, all that Astoria and I cared about.”

If Hermione thought that Draco would understand, she would mention just how much his sentiments about his son made her heart grow in size just like the Grinch’s.  She was reminded of his love for him every time they were together. It was wonderful and yet...

“Living for your children is a beautiful thing, Malfoy, but you have to live for _you_ too.” Hermione took a moment to contemplate if her next set of words was going to take a terrible turn, but she was already on the runaway train. Did it matter?

“Scorpius is going to have to go to school eventually,” she plowed on. “And not to be insensitive, I promise, but...he's only here on the weekends. Aren't you lonely?”

Draco was caught off guard by her question. “Lonely” wasn't a term that he would associate with himself. To hear it sounded awful and he promptly shook his head. “No. I stand by my previous description of ‘bored.’ Although, Theo's been helping me in that regard.”

Hermione smiled a little. “Those hobbies you so spoke of?”

“Contract work,” Draco nodded. “Spell tinkering and potion testing. Theo's an experimentalist with McGregor’s Wizarding Research Corporation.”

“Oh, I didn't know what's where he worked! That's fantastic. We have that same kind research work at the Ministry, you know. There or with Theo you don't have to stay at home.”

“Perhaps not, but for now I think that I will, if that's alright with you?”

Hermione felt a pout coming on, but she refrained. “Fine, I won't force you to make friends. Besides,” she added a tad mischievously with the hopes of lightening the depressing mood. “Finding someone to tolerate you will be a bit hard.”

Draco sensed the change in the air, smiled, and leaned back in his seat. “Is that so? Why?”

“Well, take it from someone who knows you during and post-Hogwarts, you're still arrogant. And a bit self-absorbed. You have absolutely _no_ filter for your mouth unless there are children present and even _that’s_ a stretch-”

He chuckled. “Are you done?”

“Not quite. You’re cheeky, and despite your social elite upbringing your manners at times are just horrendous.”

“Are you done _now?_ ” Draco asked with a tilt of his head. Hermione tapped her chin once and then nodded. He laughed once she had and shook his head. “You're not much different either, you know. You're still a Miss Bossy Boots when you want to be. Also, despite not being a walking, talking book like you used to be I just know there's that Know-It-All in there waiting to be unleashed.”

Hermione grinned. “If we're both all of that, how on earth did we end up here?” She gestured to the restaurant as well as themselves. It was a rhetorical question, but a part of her truly wanted an answer. One that didn't rely on George's logic of children sending their parents into traps.

“I don't know,” Draco answered honestly. “But I like to think people shouldn't ask questions about good things.”

_Good things…_ There went that word “thing” again.

Hermione raised her glass. “Cheers to ‘good things’ then.”

Draco smiled and raised his to gently touch hers. “Cheers.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An early chapter! Yey! I'm traveling next weekend, so decided to shake it up a bit lol. A little less happy than the last chapter, but darn do I love Draco to the rescue here, not to mention a little reality check from Hermione.
> 
> -WP


	8. Reading Between the Lines

_January 25th, 2013_

A pot on the stove with pasta. A saucepan going with tomato sauce. A cookbook hovering in front of his face, and a knife in one hand so that he could cut up some vegetables.

Cooking wasn't as hard as Draco thought it was. Just as he had once assessed, it was just like potion-making. A few ingredients here, a turn of his wooden spoon there, boiling water, simmering it… It was no wonder so many squibs turned to culinary arts. Granted, he wasn't about to make a gourmet meal from the top of his head, but with a recipe in front of his face it wasn't half bad.

Hermione, Rose, and Hugo were to be coming to his house for a change. It had been Scorpius' doing as he had complained that he wanted his friends to see his room and toys. Draco had been hesitant on the idea, but for the sake of his son he relented. And for the sake of showing off, he had made sure to mention at his and Hermione's last outing to come hungry as he had decided to cook.

The look on Hermione's face had been priceless. Draco felt proud and hoped that those days when he had been alone and practicing would pay off in the end. Seeing as nothing had blown up or caught fire yet he could assume that he was on the right path.

Draco could hear the fireplace ignite from where he was. He knew it wasn't Hermione yet as she would have to pick up her kids from Weasley's mother's house first. As he heard hard, running footsteps and the sound of an exasperated mother, he knew Scorpius was home.

"Dad! Dad! Are they here yet?"

Draco looked up from his mincing and smiled. "No hello for your dad?"

Scorpius ran around the kitchen counter and hugged his father on the leg. Still with his arms around it he looked up with his bright, shining grey eyes.

"Are they here yet?"

Draco laughed. "Not yet, but by the time you wash up to eat they should be."

Scorpius' face lit up and he fled his father's side faster than anyone could blink.

"Merlin," came Astoria's voice as she entered the kitchen and watched her son scamper off. "What kind of golden children does Hermione Weasley have? He's been talking nonstop about this all week."

"They're good kids," Draco answered. "And their mother is nice."

Astoria grunted. "I didn't ask about their mother."

Draco rolled his eyes and ignored her comment. Instead he continued cutting the rest of the vegetables he had on his counter. Despite concentrating, the way Astoria was staring at him and his task didn't escape his notice.

"Did you forget where the fireplace is, Astoria?"

The woman blinked and then pointed to his hands. "What are you doing?"

"What does it look like?"

"Well, you're…cutting vegetables."

Draco smiled. "Nice to know that your eyes are working."

Astoria's face turned red. " _Draco."_

The blond groaned and set his knife down before he ended up hurting himself. Or her.

"What's the big deal, Astoria?"

"The 'big deal' is that in all my years with you I've never once seen you doing such a mundane task as cutting vegetables. It's weird."

"Well, I'll have you know that I'm perfectly entitled to try new things. Besides, as you're well aware, Scorpius' friends are coming over today. They have to eat something."

Astoria's eyes scanned the kitchen as he got back to work. She saw the pot, the saucepan, a dinner table set, and a bottle of what she knew to be expensive wine.

"Plan on giving the children wine, too?"

Draco chuckled. "As much as I love our son and Granger loves her children, there's only so much pumpkin juice we can drink."

"Draco," Astoria suddenly hissed. It was so harsh that he actually stopped what he was doing and appeared concerned. "You're not supposed to date while we're separated."

So much for concern.

A mischievous glint appeared in Draco's eyes. "Oh, so you and the Frenchman are just friends, are you?"

Astoria gasped. "How did you know about him?"

Scorpius, naturally, but Draco wasn't going to throw his son under the Knight Bus like that. Instead he just shrugged.

"I didn't. You're in France, and there are Frenchmen. It was an easy deduction, honestly." He turned back to the counter and finished cutting his vegetables. "And while it's no concern of yours, Granger and I aren't seeing each other. We're just…"

Just what? That was an  _excellent_  question. Somehow they had morphed from bitter acquaintances to two people who met up on occasion. A very  _frequent_  occasion ever since their dinner on New Year's as a matter of fact. Neither had expressed friendship, and neither had addressed the oddity that was their gradual closeness in their children's absence. Just as Draco had suggested, they weren't going to question a good thing. He enjoyed her company and she enjoyed his. That was all there was to it.

"Draco?"

"Friends," Draco finished awkwardly. "The children are friends and by consequence so are we."

That explanation had done  _nothing_  to appease his soon-to-be ex-wife. It was quite apparent with how hard she stared Hermione down when she and her children came into the kitchen with Scorpius as their guide.

"And this is the kitchen!" He said ecstatically. "And this is my mum. Say hi, mum."

Astoria looked like she'd rather die. She did put on her "mother face" for Rose and Hugo though. When the children ran off and Hermione presented her hand to her, however, Astoria rudely shrugged her off.

"I'll be back for Scorpius on Sunday as always," she said to Draco before walking off.

Hermione stared between where Draco's wife had gone and where her own hand was still hanging in the air. Draco stuffed a glass of wine in it.

"The divorce makes sense now, doesn't it?" Draco asked as he took a sip from his own wine.

"Unfortunately," Hermione frowned. "But what does she have against  _me_?"

"She thinks you're sleeping with me."

Hermione had been mid-swallow and began choking instantly. Draco rubbed her back to get rid of the coughs.

"I guess it's a good thing we weren't eating," he said cheekily. He stopped with the rubbing once Hermione was okay and he led the way to the dining table while the food finished cooking itself. "She hates the idea of anyone having me. Of course, that doesn't stop her from parading about man after man around Scorpius."

"Oh, that's just terrible, not to mention hypocritical," Hermione tutted. "I never thought I'd actually be  _in favor_  of someone getting a divorce."

"There's a first for everything," Draco shrugged. "I barely knew anything about her when we got married. I tried to love her after, but nothing happened."

Hermione bit her lip. "And does she…?"

"She loves the status that comes with having me, but that's not the same as  _loving_  me _._ "

The melancholy that filled the air was palpable. Without thinking Hermione reached over the table and took his hand in hers. If he was surprised by her action, he didn't let on.

"I'm sorry. No one should have to put up with someone who doesn't realize that you're worth having."

For a reason beyond his comprehension, those words struck Draco hard. If he was being frank, this was a level of sympathy and care that he'd never gotten from...well, anyone. That wasn't to say that his own parents didn't care about him, but their way of showing it was much different than the witch's in front of him. He liked this new way.

"Malfoy?"

"Hm?"

"I think your food is burning."

Draco snapped out of his trance to find the kitchen starting to smell like smoke. Hermione watched him leap from his seat to attend to the stove and she smiled.

* * *

_January 31st 2013_

"So, you're never allowed to take Rose and Hugo to Malfoy's ever again."

Hermione laughed at Harry and stretched out on his and Ginny's couch.

"Why?" She asked, giggles still in full force.

"Because apparently he has the best house  _in the whole world_. 'He's got a lake, Uncle Harry! How come you don't have one?'"

There went the brunette's laughter again. "What's that I see, Harry? Is that your skin turning green from envy?"

Harry scoffed and threw a pillow at her. It hit her in the face, but her throw back hit his as well and it caused his glasses to shift.

"So, I guess the ferret's alright if you can walk into his house and come back unharmed."

"Now, now, none of that," Hermione playfully chided. "If he was anything close to dangerous he wouldn't have access to my house let alone me having access to his."

Harry let the words she'd just said swim around in his head for a bit. Then he just stared at her. She looked happy. She looked...calm too. It was a stark contrast to her disposition a few months ago. That wasn't to say that she didn't have bad days, but an overall mood change was… Well, it was good.

Against his better judgement, Harry decided to pry.

"You and Malfoy taking the kids anywhere special for the next playdate?"

"Malfoy got tickets to a show," Hermione said, her gaze towards the ceiling. "The Lion King at the Lyceum Theatre."

Harry paused. "A muggle musical? He's taking the kids to see a  _muggle musical?_ "

Hermione turned her eyes on him. "I've told you that he indulges in muggle things."

"Yeah, you have, but…" Harry rubbed the back of his head. "The Lion King?"

"Malfoy goes into muggle London a lot. The show has been touring since last year and when his son saw a flyer he went nuts and wanted to see it."

"And then he went and bought tickets for all of you," Harry piled on. "Isn't he generous…"

"There goes the green again," she chuckled. "But I get it. Who would've thought that we'd get along so well? Or that one day he and I would be…"

Harry detected her issue pause. "That you'd be…?"

"Friends?"

Harry cocked a brow. "Are you asking me or telling me?"

"I don't know honestly," Hermione replied as she sat up. "We never really discussed it. Do people even do that? Did you, Ron, and I ever actually sit down and say, 'Okay, we're friends now?'"

"If you put it that way, then no, we didn't."

"Right so, I'll say that Malfoy and I are on our way to being friends then if we aren't there already. Oh, and while I have the show on my mind, do you think you and Ginny could watch Rose and Hugo after it's over? Malfoy wants to take me to some lounge-pub thing and-"

"He's taking you out after the show?" Harry nearly choked. Hermione tilted her head.

"Yes, what of it?"

"What of it? Hermione, that's a date."

Unlike Harry, she really did choke. On air, which made clearing her throat out very hard.

"It's absolutely  _not_  a date, Harry."

"Are you sure?" He prodded. "Because that's exactly what it sounds like."

"If that's the case then you and I have been dating for years," Hermione smartly replied and Harry pouted at having been bested. "Trust me, I think I'd know if I was being dated. Having gotten to know Malfoy well enough I'm pretty sure he'd just announce that we were dating without giving me prior notice," she shook her head. Then she sighed and laid back down on the couch. "Besides, I don't see myself dating for a  _very_  long time. If ever."

Harry frowned. His best friend's cheery attitude had given way to such sadness in such a short space of time. However, he hadn't a single clue on what to say. So, he said nothing as an awkward silence drifted in.

* * *

_February 1st, 2013_

Draco was the first one to leave Monsieur Dumond's office as always, his wife trailing behind and grumbling angrily under her breath. Madame Roche watched as Astoria caught up to her husband and passed him, thus leaving the blond and the receptionist in the corridor alone.

"Combien de mois restants?" Madame Roche asked. Draco looked at her and smiled.

"Six," he replied. "Six et puis je suis libre."

"Bon. Tu devrais célébrer à la fin."

"C'est l'idée. Je veux aller danser."

Madame Roche beamed and wished him all the luck in the world. Draco thanked her and then went on his way to his parents' home as he always did after a counseling session with Astoria so that he could pick up Scorpius. They were back at Malfoy Manor now that the holiday season was over. He wished they could stay in the French home a little longer. It always gave him a sense of dread going back to the place that reminded him of every mistake that he'd made. It wasn't the same for his parents if they could live there so comfortably. Well, so-so. Since the war they had sealed off the portion of the Manor where Voldemort had spent most of his time. Even now his parents tended to stay in the West Wing and didn't venture much place else.

"Mother? Father?" Draco called as he walked through the West Wing entrance. There was no need to amplify his voice seeing as it ricocheted off the walls. He walked no more than one foot into the home before one of his parents' house elves, Teensy, appeared by his side.

"Master Malfoy wishes that Young Master Malfoy meet him in his study," Teensy said.

_Did he now?_

"Thank you," Draco replied as he headed upstairs to where his father's study would be. On the way there he let his thoughts roam as to what this could be about. His father only summoned him when important matters needed to be discussed. It would have nothing to do with Scorpius (a fleeting thought), because his father would have come for him directly. And so, this little matter had gained his interest.

Lucius was sitting at his large work desk, a book in hand, and a bottle of aged Bubbling Bourbon with two short glasses next to him. Draco cocked a brow.

"Come have a drink me, Draco," Lucius said without taking his eyes away from his book. Draco closed the door behind him and walked up to his father's desk. He took liberty in grabbing the bottle and pouring them glasses before sitting down.

"Alright, Father," Draco addressed as he took one of the glasses. "What's this about?"

"Before I answer that, let me ask you a question of my own, yes?" Lucius proposed. He had finally ditched the book and was happily smelling the strong, enticing odor of the bourbon. "What do you think I do in my spare time?"

Draco furrowed his brow. "Sorry?"

"My spare time, Draco. What do you think that I do on a daily basis considering that I haven't held a working position in the past decade plus some?"

"I… Catch up with friends, I suppose? Read," he gestured to his father's book. "Spend time with Mother. What else?"

"All correct," Lucius nodded. "And I so happened to partake in the friend category earlier today where I was introduced to some very telling news."

Draco leaned forward in his seat. "Oh?"

"You remember Mr. Karl Lashley, don't you? He took over the Daily Prophet and several other media outlets a few years ago?"

"Yeah, I remember him. What of him?"

"Well, he thought that I would be interested in a story that one of his reporters was planning to print in the next week or so," Lucius explained. He reached over to one of his drawers and fished out a set of news parchment and set it on the table for Draco to see. "Does anything interest you here?"

Draco's eyes widened as he pulled the set of parchment labeled  _Draft_ and held it to his eyes. Yes, this interested him greatly. It was a Valentine's Day edition of the Daily Prophet, a holiday that he hadn't once thought of or paid attention to in years. He hadn't even realized that it was two weeks away. The draft was an article about Hermione having found a new love interest just in time for the romantic holiday after the sad departure of her husband. And  _he_ , Draco, was her new love interest. He didn't bother reading it or attempting to scan it through. He was more interested in the photographs that had been taken of them. Some included outings with them and their children, although the little ones weren't pictured. And then there were others where it was just him and Hermione alone dating back from… Well, hell, back to New Year's Day.

"Out of his friendship and loyalty to me, Karl pulled the entire spread," Lucius said, breaking Draco's concentration and causing him to lock eyes with him. The elder Malfoy began to smile. "I think a thank you is in order."

Draco knew that smile. With a sigh, he set the draft article back on the table and leaned back in his seat.

"And in what form would you like this 'thank you' to be?"

"An honest explanation of your relationship with the witch in question."

Draco glanced back down at the daft. On the front was a moving photograph of them walking, talking, and laughing. If he remembered correctly, they had just come from watching a muggle film and were taking a stroll through Diagon Alley before going their separate ways home.

"We're friends," Draco answered, and his father snorted in a very ungentlemanly fashion.

"Are you? Because this," he flipped a page and pointed to one where Draco was holding Hermione's hand, "looks a bit more than friendly."

"Perhaps, but photographs only tell a partial story. We had walked onto a patch of ice. Naturally, I didn't want her to fall so I took her hand. Is the questioning over now?"

"Not quite," Lucius said pointedly. "Although when your mother and I had asked about Miss Granger some two months prior, it was purely for selfish purposes. But now it's a serious matter. Do you fancy a relationship with her?"

That was as bold a question as any, and although it should've been a straight "no," Draco found it difficult to answer. Instead of doing so, he deflected.

"Would it be so terrible if I did?"

Lucius eyed his son before tutting and sipping on his forgotten drink. "She is viewed by many in our circles as the reason to their financial, political, and overall social downfall. It wouldn't sit well with any of them if you were to take up a romance with her. Also, might I remind you that you're still married?"

Draco gave a thoughtful "hm" before taking a healthy swallow of his liquor and setting down the empty glass. "With all due respect, Father, those 'circles' that you speak of revolve around  _you_ , not me.  _If_  Granger and I were to 'take up a romance' as you say, it would be no one's business except our own. Also, might I remind  _you_  that I'm getting divorced?"

Lucius huffed, but he kept his disappointment unverbalized. Instead, he went on to say, "I suppose it's a good thing you both are just  _friends_  then?"

Draco shrugged. "I suppose so."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, writing fun fact, it took several google tries to find a kid appropriate show that had actually toured in the UK in 2013. Thank the Lord for Lion King lol. I also feel really bad for Draco. I think he just really wants to feel loved by someone. And for the French words, Madame Roche asked how much longer he had for the sessions, Draco replied six months and then he's free. She tells him that he should celebrate when it's over and he replies that he wants to go dancing :). Feel free to correct me if there's an error in French grammar!
> 
> -WP


	9. The Tenth

_February 10th, 2013_

One year. Today marked one full year since Ron died. Hermione stood in front of his grave as she'd done countless times before, but this time with a bouquet of flowers she had just conjured.

One full year later and she still felt like he had died that morning. Sure, the pain came and went, but when it came it crashed. It crushed her into nothing and she  _felt_  like nothing. She was here and nowhere at the same time and it wrecked her.

Without warning Hermione dropped the flowers, fell to her knees, and cried. After everything she'd been through, February 10th would always be the worst day of her life.

* * *

"Damn Daily Prophet," Draco swore as he slapped down the newspaper onto his kitchen counter. He had half a mind to go see Karl Lashley in person. Did he nor anyone down at that ruddy media agency have  _any_  decency for Ron Weasley's widow? He scowled at the headline yet again.

_Ron Weasley: One Year Gone, But Not Forgotten_

Draco knew what today was. It was why he had bought tickets for the Lion King for this date. Hermione had random fits of depression on a normal day, but today? He imagined her level of grief would be times a thousand.

Sighing, Draco checked his watch. The show wasn't going to start until five, but he didn't want to give Hermione a single moment to wallow in her misery. It was noon now and he had planned to take everyone to a wizard park where the air was warm in the winter so the kids could play. A light and early dinner would be next, followed by the show. That was a solid eight hours of distraction. Perfect.

"I'm ready!" Scorpius said as he looked up at his father. He was wearing a Lion King shirt, something that Draco had been forced to buy as they were walking around London one afternoon. His son was parading about as a Gryffindor and he didn't even know it.

"Alright, let's get out of here," Draco grinned. He took his son's hand so they could Floo over to Hermione's.

They tumbled out the other end where they were met with Rose and Hugo's enthusiastic greeting. Draco looked around him, but Hermione was nowhere in sight.

"Where's your mum?"

"She's not here," Hugo replied and Draco furrowed his brows at his response.

"She left you  _alone?_ "

"No! Uncle Harry's here! In the kitchen."

Draco went in the direction of the kitchen and did indeed find the bespectacled man. He seemed to have just finished making himself some tea. He was also reading through the same Daily Prophet article that Draco had been pissed over.

"Where's Granger?"

Harry looked up. "What are you doing here?"

"Outing with Granger and the kids today, so I repeat, where is she?"

 _Same attitude. Same pushy demeanor. What change does Hermione see in him exactly?_  Harry thought to himself.

"It's Ron's death day today," Harry explained. "That means she's in West Norwood Cemetery with him."

Draco stared blankly ahead. Harry's words had entered his ears and ended up presenting a very vivid image of Hermione in a depressing place surrounded by dead people.

"You let her go by herself?"

The blond had been silent for so long that Harry had forgotten he was even there.

"What do you mean?"

"What do you mean 'what do I mean?' You let a grieving woman go to the burial site of her dead husband  _by herself?_ "

Harry sighed and massaged his temple with his thumb and forefinger. "Ginny and I have tried to go with her before, but she prefers to go alone."

Draco's mouth dropped open. "Are you kidding me? The  _last_  thing that she needs is to be alone."

"I agree, but it's what she wants."

"To hell with what she wants!" Draco half-shouted, ever mindful that three children were on the other side of the kitchen. "One of you should've went. I don't care what she said."

Draco, grumbling angrily all the while, reached into the inside of his coat pocket, pulled out the tickets for tonight's show, and shoved them into Harry's hand. "Entertain the kids. The show starts at five. I'll come here for Scorpius when it's over."

Harry furrowed his brow at the tickets and then at the blond, completely taken aback at seeing him preparing to disapparate.

"Where are you going?"

"West Norwood Cemetery," Draco sneered at him, and then he disapparated.

Harry was as still as a statue, staring at the spot where Draco had just been. He didn't know what had confused him most. The fact that Draco seemed to care  _immensely_  about Hermione's well-being, or the fact that, out of everyone in her life, he seemed to care about her the most.

* * *

Draco had to do a Locator Spell to find Hermione. West Norwood Cemetery was massive and he'd end up frostbitten if he went looking for her the muggle way. Even after the spell it took him a while to walk over to her. He wished he had put a shield around him from the cold when he had the chance. Unfortunately, there were too many muggles about now and taking out his wand would prove dangerous.

Eventually, Draco did find the witch, and his mouth set up in a horrible frown when he saw her. She was kneeling on the ground, sobbing her heart out, and from what he could see of her face it was very flushed. How long had she been out here in the cold?

"Granger."

Hermione was startled by his voice and abruptly turned around where she knelt. "Malfoy? What are you doing here?"

"Wondering if you can't tell time," Draco replied cheekily despite the situation. He stuffed his hands in his pockets and added, "Someone forgot what was happening today, apparently."

Hermione was lost to all confusion until several seconds had passed and the wheels in her head started turning.

"Oh no, the show!" She gasped. "We had a whole day planned…"

"That a girl. I was hoping that noggin of yours wasn't completely lost."

"I feel terrible," Hermione frowned deeply. "The kids were really looking forward to today."

"They were and they still are," Draco said as he pulled out one of his hands and reached out for her. "Potter's watching them and he'll take them to the show afterwards."

It was a good thing Hermione's hand was in his or else she would've fallen back. Instead, she was pulled up and she stumbled into his arms and chest.

"They what?"

"You heard very well what," Draco answered her as he looked down at her bloodshot eyes and tear-stained face. Tears, so it seemed, that had begun to freeze on their trek down her cheeks. On pure impulse he used his thumbs to wipe away more oncoming tears. The action had surprised them both, but neither acknowledged it. A sharp, cold wind struck them hard enough to shake them up a bit and they shivered.

"I'm freezing my prick off here, Granger. Can we go?"

Hermione turned slightly and gave one last look at Ron's grave. With a shudder that had nothing to do with the cold she turned back to Draco and nodded, and after checking their surroundings he disapparated with her clinging to his arms.

They landed in the middle of his living room and without a word Draco led Hermione upstairs and to his study. He slipped off her coat without her notice and sat her down. As for the brunette, she was aware that she was now in a house, being warmed by a spell, and being given a glass of water that was cupped between her hands. She stayed quiet through it all, stifled through both her sadness and embarrassment.

"I appreciate you coming to get me, but I really want to be alone right now."

"I understand," Draco replied, but instead of leaving he sat down in a nearby armchair. "But no."

Hermione turned her gaze to him filled with complete bewilderment. "I'm sorry?"

"I'm not leaving you alone."

The brunette huffed, set her glass down, and immediately stood. "Fine. I'll go home then."

"You can't. I cast an anti-apparation spell on the room while you were still dazed," Draco informed her. The look on her face was one of pure shock, and then anger, and the blond was amused at both. He even cracked a smile when she proceeded to try to disapparate anyway, wandless, of all things. Horror had now masked her face and with hasty steps Hermione headed for the door and tried to open it, but it wouldn't budge.

Hermione swiftly turned around, tears brimming the edges of her eyes. "Malfoy, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"You shouldn't be alone," he said simply. "And I won't let you."

Those tears living in the corners of her eyes began to trickle. Although originally from sadness, Draco had a feeling these were ones of rage, frustration, and a bunch of other things he couldn't quite place.

"You can't keep me locked in here," Hermione said defiantly. "And if you don't want to disrupt this level of friendship we've somehow achieved in the past few months, then I suggest you let me out before I  _curse you._ "

"With what?" Draco questioned nonchalantly. Hermione's eyes widened when she realized that somewhere along the line he had managed to take her wand. It was now in his hand and with a snap of his fingers it disappeared into thin air.

"And you're not a prisoner here," he continued. "I'll let you go home eventually. In…" He consulted his watch. "About six to seven hours. After the show is over then you can go."

Hermione took a shallow breath and frowned. "Why are you doing this?"

"It's like I said. You shouldn't be alone. Not today, of all days."

Hermione wanted to fight him. She wanted to lash out and bash his smug little face in, but she couldn't do it. She felt too weak, too depressed, and too in awe of the lengths he had just gone through for her sake. A set of sobs rocked her body and she pressed herself against the door, slowly sliding down until she hit the floor with a small thump.

Draco got up then and kneeled in front of her. She looked up at him when he got close and, if possible, cried even harder. He said nothing and simply took her in his arms and let her cry. If she was going to sob like madwoman, he would rather her do it right here, in his embrace, than surrounded by death in a cemetery.

* * *

The kids were too enthusiastic about the show to wonder what had happened to their parents or why they hadn't been the ones to take them out tonight. Draco took Hermione back home when he was sure the show would be over and found Harry happily watching Scorpius, Rose, and Hugo who were all playing with Lion King souvenirs.

Harry watched as the children went to their respective parent when they got home. And as Scorpius said goodbye to his friends, Harry kept a subtle eye on his best friend and Draco. His hands were on her shoulders, rubbing them gently as he said something to her. Whatever it is was Hermione nodded, wiped a corner of her eye, and nodded once more. Draco smiled before turning to his son and telling him that it was time to go. When they were gone Hermione sent Rose and Hugo upstairs to get ready for bed.

With a deep sigh Hermione plopped herself down on the couch next to Harry and stared at him. He cleared his throat.

"Should I ask?"

Hermione grinned and then chuckled. "There's nothing much to say. Malfoy has a very interesting way of keeping me from self-destructive behavior."

Harry nodded. "I'll say. He damn near tore me to pieces for not going with you today." He paused for a moment and twiddled his thumbs. "Did you…? Did you want me to? Anyone? You'd always say no, but did you want us to try anyway?"

Her best friend was fumbling and Hermione was much appreciative of that. She hugged him without warning and shook her head.

"You did what I wanted. You're not at fault for anything."

"But…" Harry gently peeled Hermione from off of him and looked her in the face. "You didn't mind what Malfoy did? Going after you like he did?"

"I was too miserable to stop him from taking me from the cemetery to mind anything."

Harry cocked a brow. "He didn't stay with you there? He took you somewhere?"

Hermione nodded. "He took me to his house. I certainly minded it then considering he wouldn't let me leave. I nearly tore  _him_ to pieces because of it. But he… He didn't want me to be alone, and he stuck to his guns about it. Like I said, he's got an interesting way of handling me."

Harry didn't know what to say. A picture was getting painted for him and it was huge and it was vibrant. Did Hermione even see it?

"Hermione,-?"

"I guess I'm lucky to have him as a friend now," she said before he could say anything. "Funny how life turns out, huh?"

Harry deflated. No, she didn't see it. In fact, she was quite blind.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "Funny."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorty chapter, but a massive load of feels. Draco is my hero :)
> 
> -WP


	10. For Her

_February 13th, 2013_

"It's a sin, I tell you. A  _sin!_ "

Draco was laughing. He was with Theo walking through a lovesick Diagon Alley. It was filled to the brim with floating hearts, cannonball shots of heart-shaped confetti, and little charmed cherubs zooming through the air and shooting harmless arrows at people. Wizards  _loved_  Valentine's Day. It was a charms fest with love feels sprouted everywhere. Draco now realized why he had forgotten this stomach-churning holiday was coming. Without Theo, his son, or Hermione present, Draco's go-to was muggle London and surrounding areas. Although they, too, indulged in Valentine's Day decorations and trinkets, it wasn't as ostentatious as in the wizarding world. Nothing flew at you. Nothing shot at you. Nothing sang to you either, unless you counted those cards with the metal lumpy thing with wires embedded.

The only reason Draco was in Diagon Alley now was because Theo was desperately trying to find a Valentine's Day  _and_  birthday gift for his girlfriend Franny. Contrary to how it had looked, Theo hadn't waited until last minute. He was actually very picky when it came to gifts and had been looking for a month. Considering the "sin" of having her birthday on this romantic holiday, he was being even  _more_  picky than usual.

"I already told you to buy her lingerie," Draco said nonchalantly as he followed Theo into yet another storefront. "Then you  _both_  can enjoy the day."

"And I already told  _you_  that lingerie is the gift of a desperate man."

"Are you not desperate?"

Theo stopped to think about it for minute and then shrugged. "Somewhat."

Draco shook his head at him and continued giving his two cents on what would be considered a good versus bad gift. At this rate they'd end up buying lingerie anyway.

"So," Theo drawled maliciously as he combed through store shelves. "You're not a frantic mess like I am. Can I rightly assume that you have Ms. Weasley's Valentine's Day gift already?"

"I decided to make her something, not buy."

Theo fumbled an orb he had in his hand and caught it before it shattered to the floor.

"You're serious?" Theo questioned. "I was expecting you to fight me on how she wasn't your girlfriend.  _Is she?_ "

Draco chuckled. "She's still just a friend, Theo, but Weasley died four days before Valentine's Day. I wanted to cheer her up."

"Huh, that's very nice of you."

Draco shrugged. "You didn't see her on her husband's death day. She needs this."

Theo frowned. "That bad, is it? You'd reckon she'd be okay after a year. You'd think the man died yesterday."

"Well, that just goes to show that love doesn't give two rat's arses about time."

"Poetic, Draco," Theo snorted. "Really poetic… You should take up writing greeting cards."

"Ha ha."

* * *

_February 14th, 2013_

Hermione had gotten up extra early this morning, taken Rose to the Young Wizards' Learning Center and Hugo to her parents', and then went straight off to work. She'd been doing that all week to keep negative thoughts at bay. With this past Sunday making it one year that Ron had been gone, she'd been waking up feeling…off. It was both in a good and bad way. Good, in the sense that a few months ago she would wake up in a crying fit. Bad, because she wasn't doing that anymore and she hated the idea that she was coping without her husband. It also didn't help that Valentine's Day had been fast approaching. And so, because of these conflicting emotions, she dove into her work as soon as she could to rid herself of the guilt.

Around noon there was a knock on her office door. She expected Harry or Ginny, but was surprised, yet not really, to find Draco entering her domain.

Hermione set down her quill. "Do my eyes deceive me? Is Draco Malfoy actually  _knocking_  on my door instead of barging in?"

"My apologies," Draco said as he put a hand on the doorknob. "Should I walk back out and do it my way?"

The brunette laughed and shook her head. "Just sit down, Malfoy."

"No time, I'm afraid. I just came down here to ask you a question."

"A question?" Hermione asked with a raised brow. "You came all the way here to ask me a question?"

"Yes, but I have every intention of pursuing my inquiry whether your answer is yes or no," Draco smiled.

It went beyond saying that she was intrigued, not to mention amused by his brashness. Hermione took a deep breath and leaned back in her seat.

"Alright, Malfoy. What's your question?"

"Let me ask a pre-question first," he told her as he set his hands on the rim of his pockets. "We're friends, right?"

"Yes, we are."

"Well, in that case and in light of the current holiday, would it be appropriate for me to take you to lunch?"

It took a moment for Hermione to think of what holiday today was until she saw the calendar on her desk. She had done so well in blocking it out that she had actually forgotten until now. She turned back to Draco quickly.

"Valentine's Day? You want to take me out for  _Valentine's Day?_  Why?"

"Honestly? I figured you might need a bit of cheering up today."

Hermione's gaze softened. She suddenly felt so flustered that she hoped that she wasn't turning red. Judging by Draco's smirk she realized that she had failed in that regard.

"Thank you," she said a bit shyly, "but I'd rather not celebrate it."

"Fair enough," Draco nodded. "However, you've still got to eat. So, up on your feet you go."

Hermione blinked rapidly as Draco stood at the side of her desk and waited for her to move. She was struck speechless, but she was also on the brink of laughter.

"This is the pursuing of your inquiry portion of this talk, isn't it?"

"Correct."

"And you're not going to leave my office until I say yes, aren't you?"

"Two for two, Miss Granger."

Hermione finally laughed. "Merlin, you're relentless. Fine, I'll get my cloak and we can-"

"You won't need it," Draco said. "One apparation away and we're good to go."

Again, the witch was floored.

"A-alright then."

Hermione got up from her seat, grabbed her bag, and followed Draco out of her office. Apparation wasn't allowed in anyone's office, and so they had to leave it and head to designated apparation spots placed conveniently at the end of every floor operational during lunch hours only.

Once there Hermione latched onto Draco's arm and two seconds later they had reached their destination. She was instantly confused as she looked around her.

"This is your house."

Draco nodded as she let him go and he led the way through the house and into the dining room.

"Very astute. Next thing you know you'll say that my eyes are grey," Draco snickered.

Hermione was about to berate him, but instead she instantly shut her mouth. They had made it to the dining room and she was stunned. It was outfitted with wine and several dishes including pasta, mashed potatoes, a whole chicken with slices of breast already cut, and what appeared to be cheesecake.

"I thought we were going to a restaurant?"

"We could have," Draco admitted, "but restaurants will have decorations, sappy music, and obnoxiously loving couples. At least here it's just food."

Hermione ripped her eyes away from the splendid display and, without warning, threw her arms around Draco. Luckily for him he had good balance so they didn't fall.

"You didn't have to do this," Hermione told him, her voice muffled in his chest. She looked up and smiled broadly. "Thank you."

"You're welcome," Draco he replied as he observed her pleasant face. Her very happy, non-worry laden face. It was always a calm to him when she was like this and a downright displeasure when she wasn't.

"I'm impressed," Hermione said after she let him go and went to sit down at the table. "You haven't been cooking very long and you managed to do all this?"

"I could lie and say yes, but I didn't," he answered honestly. He sat down across from her and waved his wand so that the food could start portioning itself out. "I know my limits and this," he gestured to everything, "would've been a disaster. I hired someone."

Hermione nearly choked. "You  _hired_  someone? Damn it, Malfoy. You do realize that you're making it terribly difficult to give you any sort of gift in the future, right?"

Draco went incredibly smug at that and folded his hands under his chin. "Oh, I'm sure you can think of something. You've got four months until my birthday."

"Four months of present-searching hell, you mean. Have I ever told you how much I hate looking for gifts?"

"Sounds like you and Theo should talk," Draco laughed. "I was with him yesterday running into every storefront trying to help him find a gift for his girlfriend. Aside from the holiday, it's also her birthday."

"Poor Theo," Hermione giggled. "What did he end up getting?"

"Lingerie."

Hermione gave one slow blink. "I'm sorry?"

"Lingerie," Draco repeated with a mischievous tone. "You know, lacy? Thin? Usually leaves nothing to the imagination?"

"I didn't need a description, thank you," Hermione replied and promptly began eating with the hopes of keeping her reddening cheeks at bay. Draco noticed regardless and was highly amused.

"Does talking about undergarments make you uncomfortable?" He asked calmly, taking a bite of his food as he did so. Hermione paused mid-chew to stare at him, but continued, and then swallowed before answering.

"First and foremost, lingerie is  _not_  an undergarment. They're so thin as you say that they feel like nothing. You'd might as well be going commando. That's always been my experience anyway. Are you okay?"

Draco's food went down the wrong pipe as he ate, and then he promptly knocked over his wine. Hermione quickly refilled his glass and watched him as he drank half to clear away the obstruction. The brunette analyzed all of this and couldn't help her own mischievous nature and leaned back in her chair.

"Does talking about my experiences wearing lingerie make you  _uncomfortable_ , Malfoy?"

Draco snapped his eyes to her and shook his head. Despite the betrayal of his thoughts attempting to imagine her in such nightwear, he continued to say, "No. No, no, I'm fine."

"Mhmm… This lunch is nice, but making you fluster tops it."

Draco huffed. "You're a mean witch."

"Consider it karma," Hermione replied and laughed as her lunch companion pouted like a child. This had truly shaped up to be a nice Valentine's Day.

* * *

_March 3rd, 2013_

Hermione could cry. Hugo was five today.  _Five._  And with his age came the opportunity to go to school with Rose. The Young Wizard's Learning Center didn't operate with a conventional cut off time for registering students although they did adhere to summer holiday. And so, in two weeks' time he'll be learning to develop and control his childhood magic as well as anything else a child his age would learn in school.

To commemorate Hugo's big day Hermione's house was filled to the brim with people. Between the Granger and the Weasley families (including everyone's offspring), every corner was stuffed with someone. Luckily Arthur, Bill, Charlie, and George were out in the backyard putting up Warming Charms. It was still cold out and not very conducive to an outdoor affair without them.

It was five-thirty and the party had been in full blast since four. Hugo was having the time of his life and was even more enthusiastic when his favorite friend showed up.

"Happy Birthday, Hugo!" Scorpius greeted with a box that was bigger than him in his hands. Hermione chuckled as she turned to Draco who was standing behind his son.

"Weightless Charm?"

"Naturally," Draco replied as he looked down lovingly at his son. "He insisted on carrying it."

"Thanks, Scorpius!" Hugo said happily and took the box from him. There was a huge stack of gifts waiting to be opened and both boys trudged off to it.

Hermione watched them for a bit before addressing Draco again. Without his son with him she noticed how he was passing glances at everyone and, she couldn't  _not_  notice, how everyone was giving glances in return.

"Warming Charms should be up in the backyard by now," Hermione informed him. "Want to go? Something tells me that you're not in for a Weasley fest."

Draco felt himself blushing, but nodded just the same. Hermione led the way without a word through the crowd containing both sides of her family. The Granger side was  _very_  interested in who this blond man was trailing after their not-so-little Hermione. And the Weasley side, who were all privvy to the fact that Draco's son and Hermione's children were friends, were curious as to why they were wandering off alone. All except Harry and Ginny, Potters yet Weasleys by extension, who gave each other inquiring looks among themselves.

"You could have just dropped Scorpius off, you know," Hermione said as they sat down. She had a long couch that could be used as a swing on the back porch. It was her favorite place to be when the weather was good.

"I could have," Draco agreed. "But Scorpius would've had a permanent pout if I didn't stay. Besides, I wanted to come."

"Well, would you look at that," she teased. "Sacrificing your dignity for a little boy's birthday."

Draco shrugged and cupped his hands. "Some things are worth the sacrifice, don't you think?"

Hermione beamed at him and nodded. "Yes, I think so. I'll have to return the sacrifice when it's Scorpius' birthday. When is it?"

"Next month on the twenty-eighth. Although, I don't think I'll subject you to the interrogation or the thinly veiled insults. You've suffered enough at my hand alone, so there's no need to add to it."

"The insults I get, but the interrogation?"

"Ah yes, I never told you, did I?" Draco crossed his arms and grinned. He looked like he had a juicy story to tell and Hermione wasn't sure if she wanted to hear it or not. But curiosity and all that…

"Told me what?" Hermione asked warily.

"Well, you remember my wife's feelings towards you?"

Hermione laughed. "That I'm sleeping with you? Yes, go on."

"My parents hold the same belief, and I've been questioned on it twice by now."

" _Excuse me?_ " Hermione gasped. "Where on earth have they gotten  _that_  idea?"

"Nothing more than the fact that you're my friend," Draco said nonchalantly. "Although a pulled Valentine's Day spread on us gave my father a bit more ammunition."

Hermione craned her neck forward as though that would make her hear better and automatically make Draco repeat what he had just said.

"There was a Valentine's Day spread of us?"

Draco nodded. "Daily Prophet. Photographs too, although I haven't the foggiest idea how they got them. We've been followed quite a bit."

"Merlin," Hermione frowned. "I hope this doesn't push your divorce back."

"No one in the public eye saw it, so it's fine," he waved lazily. "We'll just have to be a bit more careful. That's all."

At that Hermione started to laugh. Draco was confused as he hadn't said anything funny, or so he thought. When she was done with the chuckle fest (and wiping the corners of her eyes with her fingers), she finally clued him in on the joke.

"I've heard about couples sneaking about, but friends? It's absolutely absurd."

"Agreed," Draco replied with an incline of his head. "But I think it's safe to say nothing involving us has ever been normal."

"You're very right."

A new voice cleared his throat out on the porch and the conversing pair looked up to find George standing not too far off with a cheeky expression.

"Oh, Ms. Weasley, your son is dying to cut his cake but can't find his mother."

Hermione sighed contentedly and got up from her seat. "Yes, alright. Let's go give the birthday boy his cake."

Hermione took the lead back into the house. Draco had stood up just as she had and eyed the man who was watching his every move.

"Something to say, Weasley?" Draco asked. George, not detecting any malice from the blond as he had expected, shook his head.

"Nothing, nothing at all," George answered in a mischievous manner. "Just play nice with our Hermione."

Draco stopped dead in his tracks at that while George walked off with a hum and his hands in his pockets. When Draco finally made it into the house everyone was crowded about in the kitchen while Hugo was sitting at the head of the table with a cake in front of him and five candles. Despite the cramped area, somehow he had ended up standing next to Ginny. She was holding her daughter who had grown significantly since seeing her at Rose's chess tournament last October.

"Harry told me what you did," Ginny said suddenly. It was a surprise to Draco that he was able to hear her considering the singing going on around them. "With Hermione and the cemetery last month?"

"Oh, that," Draco just shrugged. "She needed it."

"Apparently so. If I'm to be honest, you're the last person I would think of to know what she needs."

Draco let those words sink in. He was watching her now, Hermione, as she gave Hugo the first slice of cake and kissed him on the cheek. They hugged then, and it was sweet enough to cause a stomach ache.

"I guess I just view her differently than you do."

Ginny stared at him from her periphery before letting her lips turn upwards. "You don't say…"

"And," Draco added, this time fully turning to the redheaded woman. "Speaking of what Granger needs, I need to ask you and your husband for a favor."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco is too thoughtful for his own good and now I have really high expectations for my future husband *sigh* Thanks for reading everyone!
> 
> -WP


	11. The Art of Kidnapping

_March 10th, 2013_

Another month and another tenth day. Hermione had her bouquet of flowers ready. No letters from the children though, something of which had been put an end to a while ago. She minded it a whole lot less if  _she_  thought of Ron's death more than she should than her kids. She wanted them to cope better, and she was proud to say that they were. Today they were spending the day with their cousins over at Harry and Ginny's, topping off their adventure with a sleepover. It was Harry's idea, and Hermione had a feeling that it tied in with what today was. She was grateful for it.

And so, she slipped on her shoes, her coat, grabbed the flowers from off of her bed, and headed downstairs. When she got there, however, she was very shocked to find Draco standing in her living room.

"Malfoy? What are you doing here?"

Draco smiled, turning in the direction of her voice and walked over. "I'm here to kidnap you. I'll take these," he added as he slipped the bouquet of flowers out of her hands. It was quite easy as she was completely stunned.

"What? Malfoy, I'm in no mood for you right now or your quirkiness. Today's the tenth. I have to-"

"I know what you  _want_  to do," he interrupted, "but you're not going to Weasley's grave today."

Hermione felt her chest constrict at those words, so much so that she thought her heart had stopped. "I… I can't do that. I have to go. I  _need_  to go."

"No, you don't," Draco said sternly. "You've had your share of cemetery visits. One full year of them. I'll be damned if you go back."

The brunette's eyes flashed dangerously. However, instead of setting her wand on him, she crossed her arms over her chest. "I have children to raise, thank you. I can't just pick myself up and wander about."

Draco smirked. "But they're not here, are they? Got picked up this morning, and then a sleepover tonight with the Potters, no?"

Hermione blinked, her arms slowly falling to her sides. "How did you know that?"

"Because I asked them to do it," he admitted unashamedly. "At Hugo's birthday party? I had to make sure that you had nothing keeping you here, didn't I?"

Yet again Hermione blinked, but this time far more slowly as she let the information sink in. She thought the idea for Harry and Ginny to take Rose and Hugo for the day was to give her space. Not a  _collaboration_  with this incredible nuisance in front of her.

"I'll kill them," she finally announced. Draco chuckled.

"If that's what you want to do, go ahead, but you'll do that tomorrow. Today, however," he said as he outstretched his hand. "Today, you belong with me."

His hand was directly in her line of sight and Hermione looked up at him briefly before slipping her hand in his and allowing it to envelop her own. She was in his care now, literally and figuratively, as he gently guided her along to her fireplace and they both stepped inside.

"Breakfast?" Draco asked as they exited the fireplace on Draco's end, still hand-in-hand. Hermione had already eaten not more than two hours ago, but she wasn't about to quell his spirit, so she agreed. He tugged her along into the kitchen and finally let her go once they made it to the table. It was simple: eggs, toast with jam and a butter, sausages, and tea.

"So, is this a thing now?" Hermione asked as she sat down. "You kidnapping me every tenth of the month and feeding me?"

"Merlin, I hope not," Draco scoffed. He picked up his tea and let it hover near his lips before adding, "Do you know how much work it takes to make a sad woman happy?"

"Scheming with her friends and giving away her children?"

"Precisely," he winked and Hermione shook her head.

As they both began to eat she realized something and she paused her fork in its journey to her mouth. "Where's Scorpius?"

"His mother took him away for the weekend. I'll have him tomorrow."

"Mhmm," she hummed disbelievingly and continued eating. "How convenient."

"Quite," Draco agreed. "Although, my plan would've still worked even if he was here. The point is to break this habit you have."

"Going to see Ron isn't a habit."

"Oh, yes it is. And it's not healthy in the slightest."

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Who are you? My therapist now?"

"Your what?"

"Seriously? As much time as you spend in the muggle world you don't know what a therapist is?"

Draco shrugged, utterly confused, and Hermione groaned in exasperation.

"They help people with their problems, Malfoy. That's what they do for a living."

"Muggles can get a job doing that?"

"Yes."

"Oh…" Draco scratched the back of his head. "Well, regardless, no, I'm not your thera-whatever. I'm just calling it like I see it. Would it hurt you that much to  _not_  go to his grave today?"

He instantly frowned when he saw how distraught Hermione's face had become. "Granger," Draco said gently. "You can't talk to dirt forever."

"He's not dirt!" Hermione snapped. "He's-!"

"Someone who can't talk back," Draco cut her off. "You need to talk to someone who can answer you. Who can actually  _help_  you."

Hermione scoffed and leaned back in her chair. "Do you want to know when I became tired of people trying to help me? The day after Ron died. Everyone said the same thing. They talked about how good Ron was and how he would be dearly missed. How sorry they were. How I'd get through it and how the children and I would be fine.

'But it was never fine. No closure ever came. And  _that's_  why I go see Ron every tenth of the month. Because I miss him and I… I need my closure."

"It's okay to miss him, you know," Draco encouraged her. "You always will. But it's  _how_  you miss him that's going to ruin or better you."

Hermione bit her inner jaw. She didn't want to admit that he was right, but here she was, one year and one month later, and she still crawled into a hole to hide from the world. She didn't crawl as deep as she used to, but nevertheless…

She suddenly stared at the man who had made her come to such a realization and marveled at him.

"Are you going to better me, Malfoy?" Hermione asked, truly interested in his answer.

"I can try," Draco answered truthfully, and she felt completely embarrassed as a tear rolled down her face.

* * *

As it turned out, Draco had a whole itinerary planned. He had booked a one day tour that would take them to visit the Windsor Castle, Stonehenge, and the city of Oxford. It was an enjoyable experience as Hermione had never been to any of those places except for the third. She had a good time on the tour bus, remarking how little Draco complained about being seated so close to strangers or how wildly the bus made sharp turns (although it still couldn't compete with the Knight Bus!). She did get a kick out of him admitting that he still didn't understand how muggle mobiles worked, especially with people using them to take photographs. Hermione did have one of her own, but she only used it to call her parents. She promised to show it to him one day and how to properly use it.

Oxford was a lovely place, and with a little harmless magic the tour bus left Draco and Hermione behind so that they could enjoy the town better. They ended up going to a place called Be At One with what Hermione considered to be the best cocktails she'd ever had, not to mention great food and music.

" _Fantastic_  choice," Hermione complimented as she took a bite out of her pizza. "Although, I must admit that I feel a bit out of place. I haven't been to a pub in... _years._ "

"I can hardly say the same for myself," Draco admitted as he finished off his drink. A French 75, if she remembered correctly. "I've got to say, though, I can't imagine you in a pub, period."

"Hey, I was young once, thank you."

"You're thirty-three. You're still young. You're still allowed to drink, have fun, dance-"

Hermione snorted loudly. "I do  _not_  dance. Ron had to yank me out of my chair at our wedding for me to dance with him. It worked out, I guess. There was something about...I don't know...being in his arms that made me feel better. To not be embarrassed or think everyone's eyes were on me."

Draco's eyes lit up. "Is that so? Let's see how well I do then," he said as he got out of his seat and held out his hand. "Let's get to it."

Hermione's eyes widened. "Sorry?"

"You heard me," Draco grinned. "There's music on, and we're both liquored up enough to blame any foolish movements on the drink. We're dancing."

"Oh, Malfoy no," she shook her head. "Please, I really don't want to-"

"I could care less about what you want, Granger. You should know that by now."

He took her hand because  _clearly_  she wasn't going to give it to him. He gently forced her out of her seat and guided her out onto the small dance floor. Hermione was pouting terribly, but as Draco had told her, her thoughts and feelings on most matters were usually of no consequence.

"Do I have to put your arms around me or will you?"

The brunette scowled. Draco smiled.

"I guess it's me then."

Draco took her hands in his and placed them over his shoulders. When her hands were in their proper place, he put his on her waist. The song in the air wasn't particularly fast. It wasn't very slow either. Regardless, they moved out of tune to it, but not to each other. Somewhere along the line Hermione's hands had snaked their way around Draco's neck and linked. Draco's hands on her waist had slithered their way around her body, and the initial space between them gradually decreased until there was none to speak of.

Hermione hadn't been this close in proximity to a man since Ron. Harry and all of her other male in-laws didn't count, and even they didn't get this close. This was… It was different. Draco was warm, and inviting, and the smell of his cologne mingled with that of his drink and it was such an alluring combination.

"Do you feel better now?" Draco asked in a near whisper. Hermione could feel his lips graze against her ear as he asked it. It tingled and tickled, but in a good way. These weren't Ron's arms she was in, no, but they damn sure made her feel better.

* * *

When they got back to Draco's house it was just past eleven-thirty. An early night compared to the people who started  _arriving_  as they were leaving. They were sitting on his couch now, their cocktails from earlier beginning to taper off.

"I should go," Hermione said as she glanced at the clock. "It's late, and I have work tomorrow."

Draco rested his arm on his couch's backrest and propped his his head up with his hand. "I do recall saying that you would spend the day with me."

Hermione smiled. "And it's night, Malfoy. The day is over. And if you want to be more specific,  _the tenth_  will be over in twenty-five minutes."

Draco grinned at her specificity and nodded. "True, but let me tell you what  _I_  think a day is. A day starts when you wake up and ends when you go to sleep. So, tell me, are you planning on going to sleep right now?"

The brunette sighed. "No."

"I thought so. Just like the last time, Granger, you're no prisoner here. I didn't even cast an anti-apparation spell this time. So, you're welcome to leave," he said carefully, eyeing her every move. "However, I highly suggest staying if all you're going to do when you go home is think about everything I wouldn't let you think about today."

Hermione let her gaze fall to her lap. Today...had been a good day. A confusing day. A very  _eye-opening_  day. She both hated and admired how well Draco could read her, and it almost seemed as though he knew her better than she knew herself these days.

"...I have to go home," she said after a while with her gaze still towards her lap. She looked up to find disappointment in Draco's eyes, but it was wiped away completely when she added, "...to get clothes. I have to go home to get clothes."

"No need," he replied, poorly masking his sense of relief. "Mrs. P. packed a bag for you. Work clothes and all."

" _Excuse me?_ " Hermione stuttered. Draco laughed. "How?  _When?_ "

"I'll let her give you the details on that," he said as he stood. "All I know is she owes me fifteen galleons as she had absolutely no faith that I could get you to stay."

Hermione huffed as she, too, rose to her feet. "What else is going on behind my back, I wonder? Did one of you buy a house in my name?"

Draco chuckled. "Now you're just being dramatic. Follow me."

Hermione did as he instructed and she followed him upstairs as she had did once before. The first time she had been a distraught mess and she wasn't able to appreciate how nice Draco's house really was. At the top of the landing you could go right or left, and they went left and into a spare bedroom. On the bed, indeed, was a small rucksack laying there. When Hermione rummaged inside she tutted at everything she found. Toothbrush, combs, a modest t-shirt and pyjama pants, a matching bra and underwear set (which she made sure to push aside so Draco wouldn't see), other necessary items, and yes, an outfit for work the next day with a lovely note attached from her boss that it was " _perfectly fine to come in for noon instead of the usual nine if necessary."_

"Malfoy? What did you tell my boss that she-?"

"The bathroom is right through that door," Draco interrupted and pointed to said door over to the upper left corner of the room.

" _Malfoy_."

Draco paused and laughed lightly before running a hand through his hair. "Don't look at me for that one. Potter so happened to pull that particular string. I honestly hadn't thought one thing about your work."

Hermione groaned and rolled her eyes. "I repeat, I'll kill him."

"If you say so," Draco replied with a mirthful expression. "Now, you do what you need to, I'll do the same, and we can meet back downstairs. Unless you're tired?"

"I'm not tired," Hermione told him. She smiled and then added, "I'm actually a bit hungry, if you have any junk food in this place that is."

"I have a son who's almost seven," he reminded. "Of course there's junk food."

Draco left her to her privacy and Hermione took advantage of the  _beautiful_  bathroom that this guest room had to offer. With a separate shower and bathtub, she opted for the bathtub and let herself soak. She pretended that she was soaking all of her troubles away and boy did it do the trick. Certain flashbacks to the day's events seemed to help with that too.

When she was finished she went downstairs and found Draco in the kitchen. Hermione couldn't help the absolute joy on her face at how much junk food lay out on the kitchen counter. Most of it sweets.

"Chocolate frogs, Bertie Botts, Licorice Wands… Merlin, Malfoy, remind me to get you and Scorpius an appointment to see my parents. You're both in serious need to see a dentist."

"What's a dentist?" Draco genuinely inquired as he tore open a Licorice Wand.

Hermione was dripping in delight at the anticipation of giving him this rather horrible description. "It's a muggle profession where someone goes into your mouth and examine, clean, probe, take pictures with radiation of, and sometimes drill, your teeth."

Draco's eyes comically went wide. "What the hell kind of profession  _is that?_  And muggles  _willingly_  go see these people?"

Hermione nearly fell down in hysterics. "Yes," she wiped at her eyes. "People have to go. It's the only way to detect if anything is wrong with their teeth."

Draco huffed. "I'd rather let them rot."

"At the rate you're going they will."

"And I have absolutely  _no_  problem that that."

Hermione shook her head at him and picked up a chocolate frog. She ate the legs first (not without guilt) so that it wouldn't hop away and took out the card. She sighed bitterly when she realized that it was Ron and showed it to Draco.

"With my luck it had to be his, didn't it?"

"I think the universe is out to get you," Draco scoffed as he took the card from her. "But today helped though, right? At least a little?"

Hermione nodded. "It helped a lot actually. You were right before. I can't keep putting myself through the misery. It's like...poking at a wound. It won't get better if I keep messing with it."

"Correct."

"...Everyone around me is so content on letting me grieve my own way. I suppose it's my fault. I told them all to leave me alone way back when and they have." Hermione took a deep breath and put her elbows on the table, her chin resting on her hands. "You're the only person who wouldn't let me do it, even when I yelled at you."

"I'm not put off by someone screaming at me. Even if it's from a witch as scary as you," Draco added cheekily. "I had to do something."

"You make it sound like it was your duty or something," she snickered. The moment stopped after a bit and she self-consciously played with her fingers. "You didn't have to, you know. Any of it."

"Yes, I did," he countered. It was his turn to veer towards a nervous habit and his was eating, apparently. "The topic of your husband makes you so...depressed. That look on you…" his words trailed off as she let her eyes leave her hands and to his face. He gulped and hoped she didn't notice. "It doesn't suit you very well."

Hermione didn't know what to say. All she could do was emit a soft, "Thank you," and help herself to another chocolate frog.

* * *

Draco woke up with a stiff neck. It wasn't a surprise seeing as he had apparently slept on the couch with his head back. The surprise came when he looked to his right and found Hermione there.

Last night after devouring their weight in food that was  _horribly_  bad for them, they had ended up back on his couch. They stayed up talking. The last time Draco remembering seeing on the clock was just after three a.m. It was quarter past nine now.

Draco looked back over at Hermione. She was still asleep, her head on his chest, an arm over his waist,  _and his arm_  was around hers. This definitely wasn't how he remembered them being positioned before drifting off. He wondered how in one's sleep a person's limbs could act on their own in such a way.

With the time it was now Astoria would be bringing Scorpius soon. If she saw them like this all hell would break loose, not to mention put his divorce in jeopardy. Worse off, if his son saw them like this it would raise too many questions a six-soon-seven-year-old shouldn't have to ask or worry about.

But more than that, Hermione needed something to sleep on that was more comfortable than a couch.

Draco held onto her waist tighter and reached over to slip his other arm under her legs. He got up with a slight groan and carried her to the guest bedroom where her things were. He glanced down at her from time to time on the journey there and felt his stomach flutter, just a tad, when she nuzzled her face into his chest and gripped her hand on his shirt.

He regretted having made it to the bedroom and Draco set Hermione down carefully until she was out of his arms. They felt empty now, but his heart didn't, and he knew in this moment that everything had changed.

With a sigh, he moved some of her curls from her face and ran his thumb across her cheek. His fingers had nearly traced her lips before he heard the sound of his fireplace activating.

That's when he left.

And that's when Hermione finally opened her eyes after pretending to still be asleep once he had set her down on the bed.

She sat up so quickly that it made her dizzy, but she was already lightheaded. Hermione stared at the bedroom door. She also let her fingers trace where Draco's hand had been and felt her heart jump.

She had suspected it before, but now it was certain.

Everything was different now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An extra treat for you all and a happy one! THEY RECOGNIZE THE FEELS!!!! *dances*. Fun facts, there are actual day trips that will take you to all three places that Draco and Hermione went. The bar is a real cocktail bar in Oxford. with the most delicious-sounding cocktails that I'd love to try! Draco's drink comes in a classy champagne glass and made with a type of gin, champagne, sugar and lemon. Other drinks I imagine him having that night are the Island Fox and perhaps an English Fizz :)
> 
> -WP


	12. Queasy & Uneasy

Hermione must've sat up in bed for upwards of fifteen minutes just following the path that Draco's fingers took. And thinking about his awkward explanation about why he wanted to make her happy. And about their dance at the pub. About…everything. She didn't know what to think or how to feel, although the flutter in her stomach and chest gave her some sort of indication.

With a sigh, Hermione got out of bed, used a tongue and tooth charm on her mouth in lieu of actually brushing her teeth and got dressed. Scorpius had been brought home this morning, and despite the fact that the boy was used to seeing her around his father by now, it was a different thing entirely when she was at his house so early in the morning. However, the only fireplace she knew of in Draco's house was downstairs. Unless Scorpius was somewhere out of the way, she would have to brace for a small white lie.

Hermione slipped her rucksack onto her back and then eased the bedroom door open. She didn't see any sign of movement and trudged forward, making all the way to the bottom stair and towards an archway that would lead to the living room when she stopped dead.

"It's a good idea, Draco."

"No, it's too lavish. He's going to be seven for Merlin's sake, not coronated as the next Minister of Magic!"

Astoria was still in the house. Hermione took a careful step back and leaned against the inside wall of the archway. Back upstairs she went, apparently. If seeing Scorpius rattled her feathers, she could just imagine the fallout if Draco's wife, soon-to-be-ex, found her.

"Are you playing hide and seek with my dad?"

Hermione had to control herself so she didn't jump out of her skin. Instead, she held her teeth in a deadly clench before turning to the little boy who had randomly appeared at her side.

"Yes," she lied, choosing to use Scorpius' kid logic. "Your mum too, so do you want to help me hide?"

"Sure! Follow me!"

Hermione smiled as she adhered to the boy's command and headed back upstairs. They turned right whereas the guest bedroom where she slept had been left, and they headed down to the third room on their right which they entered.

It was a neat little room. Small compared to the size of the rooms she'd already seen. There was a coffee table and two armchairs to the far right, a not-so-mini mini bar directly ahead of her, a fireplace too small to fit a person to the left, and a bookshelf on either side of said fireplace.

"It's my dad's 'quiet room,'" Scorpius told her. "He only comes in here when he needs 'peace and quiet,'" he quoted. Hermione tilted her head at him and placed her hands on her hips in a very motherly fashion.

"Scorpius, are you allowed to be in your dad's 'quiet room?'"

The guilt that shot through his face was instantaneous. He cupped his hands behind his back and began to sway back and forth.

"Maybe…"

" _Scorpius._ "

"Not?" He added with his own tilt of his head. Hermione laughed before shaking her head. This boy was going to be in Slytherin alright.

"If you're not supposed to be in here then we should go and hide somewhere else."

Scorpius frowned. "Okay."

He began to lead the way out. While he did that Hermione reflected on just why Draco would need a "quiet room" and fully stocked with strong liquor on top of it. What could he be keeping locked away in here that he needed to shield from the world?

At that Hermione's thoughts jumped. They jumped all the way back to when she had first met the sweet little boy who had just stepped into the hall and what he had said to her.

"Scorpius?" She called out to him. "Do you remember the day we met? You told me that your father had a picture of me."

Scorpius' face lit up. "Yeah!"

"It…wouldn't happen to be in here, would it?"

Scorpius was smiling even broader now (if possible) and he re-entered the room. Hermione felt terrible for letting him break house rules, but her track record certainly had her breaking rules for the sake of her curiosity. This was no different.

She watched him go up to one of the books on his father's bookshelf, pluck it out, and flip a couple pages until he found what he was looking for.

"Here."

Hermione walked over and took it from him, but it wasn't a photograph. It was actually a newspaper clipping. It also wasn't just her in the moving image, but Harry and Ron too. She remembered the day that it was taken. They were tired and dirty from combing through Hogwarts rubble and a photographer had captured them sitting on the grounds taking a break. It had been the first time they had smiled that day and the picture showed.

She wondered why Draco had it. What meaning did it have for him? That, she determined, was a question for another day. Instead, she helped Scorpius put back the photo and then the book in its proper place and they left the room as though they had never stepped foot in it.

* * *

It was too early for a stiff drink, but every time Draco spoke to Astoria he needed one. However, Scorpius was his saving grace. He promised never to drink around his son and he wasn't about to break that habit now.

With a tired sigh Draco went upstairs to figure out where his "mini me" went. He also needed to figure out a way to get Hermione out of the house or at the very least make it look like she hadn't slept here. No, Draco and the brunette weren't dating (despite the association of both her and the word "dating" giving him a new thrill), but he would still prefer not to give such an impression without talking to Scorpius first. His son was owed that, not told as an after-the-fact, and not left to determine on his own that his father had a new "friend" like  _some_  people Draco knew.

When Draco made it upstairs he heard two sets of laughter. Oddly, they were from the same room. He walked over to the guest bedroom and found Hermione there like he expected, but also Scorpius who instantly pouted.

"Aww, you found us!"

Draco looked over at Hermione with a cocked brow.

"I was playing  _hide_  and seek with you and  _Astoria_  remember? Scorpius was helping me hide."

"Ah," Draco smiled as he crossed his arms. "Of course. Since I found you I should hide next, but why don't you hide Scorpius? Then I can try to find you again."

"Okay!" Scorpius agreed, jumped off the bed and ran out of the room. Draco shook his head at him with all the joy in the world.

"Do kids have to grow up?" He asked Hermione.

"Unfortunately," Hermione grinned. "Did you ever think about having another?"

"I did, but promptly dismissed the idea if Astoria was to be his or her mother. That was a complete deal breaker."

Draco sat down next to Hermione without thinking. It was close. Close enough for their legs to touch. If it wasn't obvious they were two adults, one would think that they were teenagers, both unsure of their next move.

Draco twiddled his fingers. Hermione played with her sleeves. By the time they both worked up the nerve to say something they were talking over each other.

Draco laughed. "You go."

"What are your plans for the rest of the day?"

"Whatever Scorpius wants. If I remember correctly, he said he wanted to go to that joke shop again. Hugo mentioned something about a new toy coming out?"

"Oh yes," Hermione nodded. "It borders on genius, actually. I've forgotten what it's called, but it allows a child to apparate about two to three feet from wherever they stand."

Draco's mouth dropped. "You're kidding.  _Weasley_  invented that?"

"Like I said, genius," she said proudly. "And it only took two full years to develop, his children and all of his nieces and nephews to test it out, and Hugo losing both eyebrows and a fingernail to get it to work."

" _Sorry?_ "

Hermione laughed at his alarmed expression and patted his hand. "I'm teasing. Just one eyebrow. Took forever to grow back, but no true harm done."

Draco blinked slowly before shaking his head. "You're terrible at marketing."

"I never said that I was good at it."

Draco chuckled and nodded, feeling nerves kicking in yet again, but he shook them off. "And you? Your plans for the day, aside from work, of course."

"Nothing really," Hermione shrugged. "Ginny's off today, so she'll keep Hugo until I'm finished. Molly or Arthur usually grabs Rose for me when school lets out. I'll pick them both up and then the usual dinner and wrestle them to bed..." She paused for a moment before adding, "I know that you've become this master chef and all, but did you want to have dinner with us? You and Scorpius?"

Draco's face lit up and he nodded. "Yeah, I'd….  _We'd_  love that."

There went yet another flutter of Hermione's stomach because, yes, she noticed the slip.

"Good. Well, um… I should probably get going. Work and all…"

"Absolutely, come on," Draco said as he stood and urged for her to do the same. "There's a fireplace on this floor that you can use."

Hermione grabbed her rucksack and followed Draco out of the guest bedroom, down the opposite end of the hall and two doors down. It was a lounge area similar to his "quiet room" as Scorpius had called it.

"I'll tell Scorpius that you had to run."

"Alright."

Hermione took a handful of Floo powder on her way into the fireplace, bid Draco a farewell, and went on her way. She exited into her own home, but she quickly found herself back inside her fireplace, more Floo Powder in hand, and saying a new destination.

"Mum!" Hugo shouted when he saw her. He'd been coming out of the kitchen and immediately ran over. Hermione threw down her rucksack and gave him a big hug.

"If I didn't know any better I'd say that you grew overnight," Hermione beamed. "Did you already have breakfast?"

"Yeah! I was just going upstairs to play."

"Okay then, go play. I'm going to stay for a bit and pick at what's left of breakfast before going to work. Is your Aunt Ginny in the kitchen?"

Hugo nodded. Hermione gave him one last hug and a kiss on the forehead before sending him on his way. She grabbed the rucksack from the floor and headed straight into the kitchen where Ginny was finishing up her meal while Lily was preoccupied with enchanted toys.

"I thought I heard you out there," Ginny said without lifting her head. "If Hugo's shout wasn't evidence enough, of course."

Hermione set her rucksack in the middle of the table and put her hands on her hips. "You and Harry  _actually_  plotted with Malfoy? Seriously?"

Ginny looked up and laughed. "Technically, he did the plotting. He just made us accomplices."

"Yes, well, that's all fine and dandy, but now… Now I have a problem."

Ginny frowned instantly and lifted her wand that had been sitting beside her to cast a Muffilato Charm over Lily.

"What is it?"

Merlin, Hermione had to say it, didn't she? She could barely admit it in her head let alone  _out loud._  To cope, she started in with the nasty habit of biting her nails.

"I… Well, I… I think that I'm... _fond_  of Malfoy."

"Understandable," Ginny shrugged. "As much as I hate to admit it he's  _marginally_  less of an arse than he used to be. I guess kids really can change a person for the better."

"No," Hermione shook her head. "You don't get it. I'm  _fond_  of him."

Ginny scrunched her brows together, still obviously confused. But then it clicked, and she sat erect in her seat as she flailed her hands wildly.

"Oh! Oh! You're  _fond_  of him! Oh, Hermione… Poor choice in man aside, that's great!"

Hermione sputtered. "Great? It's  _great?_ "

"Of course it is. You didn't plan on spending the rest of your life as a single woman, did you?"

"I never gave it much thought, honestly. And the fact that I'm thinking about it now just… Ginny, it scares me. Ron was my everything and now I feel like I'm leaving him."

"Hermione, love, you can't leave someone who isn't here. You also have every right to be happy."

"But-"

"No buts," Ginny shook her head. "Whatever it is that you're feeling it's okay to be scared. Just don't let that fear rule you or stop you from having something that could make you happy."

Hermione snorted. "You do realize what you've just said is about Malfoy, don't you?"

"I do. It makes my insides burn, but I have to admit that he does seem to care about you."

Hermione sat down at the table slowly and played with her cuticles. "You noticed that too, did you?"

"Harry's the one who noticed first, actually. We've discussed you and Malfoy at great length over the past month."

Hermione crossed her arms and smirked in amusement. "Oh really? And your assessment?"

"Easy. Malfoy can't stand seeing you in pain, and he does  _everything_  he can to make it stop. Going after you in the cemetery? That Valentine's Day lunch at his house? Asking Harry and me to take Rose and Hugo so that he could distract you? That's a lot of effort to put into someone without some depth of care. Face it. He'd do anything for you, Hermione."

_He'd do anything for you._

"He cooked."

"Sorry?"

"He cooked," Hermione repeated. "He made me breakfast before he came to collect me yesterday. We took a muggle tour bus to various places and went to a muggle bar afterwards. He… He got me to dance with him too. Last night we fell asleep on his couch after being up for hours and he carried me to my room this morning. I woke up while he did, not having a single clue what was happening, but when I realized it I felt so comfortable with him. I… I didn't want him to go.

'Ginny, he's so sweet. Sweet with an oddly admirable, pushy twist to him. Something that's undeniably Malfoy, but tolerable." Hermione suddenly sighed and frowned. "I don't know if I can be with him. He deserves someone who can be fully there, and I doubt that I could give him that right now."

"You can't assume what he wants, Hermione. You need to ask him, and  _then_  decide what you're able to give."

Hermione's eyes bulged. "Ask him? Merlin, you do realize that I've only ever dated two men in my life. One asked me to a ball, and while I married the other, when we got together it just  _happened._  Neither of them involved dangling my feelings over the edge."

"Well, you'd better get used to the idea," Ginny grinned. "One of you has to say something, and I doubt very much it'll be him."

"How come? He has no problems being blunt with everything else in his life."

"True, but feelings are different, especially involving someone that you like."

"And you expect  _me_  to the plunge?" Hermione scoffed. "I don't even know where I'd start."

"Don't go looking for it then," Ginny suggested. "The right moment will present itself, and when it does you'll know."

Hermione swallowed deeply. She sure hoped so.

* * *

"Uncle Theo, that's cheating!" Scorpius whined. Theo scrunched up his face and frowned as he put back the black piece from where he had moved it.

"How? I can do it in wizard's chess."

"But this is  _checkers_. You can only move in a diagonal. Like this, see?"

Theo watched as Scorpius demonstrated with his hand which ways he could move. The man pouted even further and crossed his arms over his chest like a child. "I don't think I like this game."

Scorpius laughed and then turned to the woman who his Uncle Theo had brought with him. "Do you want to play, Aunt Franny?"

Franny beamed. Having been with Theo for nearly a year now she had officially been termed "Aunt" Franny by her boyfriend's godson and it filled her with so much pride. Theo had been more than happy to trade seats with her and he stood by for a moment and watched them play the muggle game that had been introduced to the boy by his friends. It was after about ten minutes that Theo headed into the house and found Draco moving about the kitchen with various ingredients getting cut and thrown into pots by magic and a cookbook hovering and following the blond wherever he went.

"Merlin, Granger's done a number on you," Theo chuckled once he got close. "Draco Malfoy in a kitchen. Absolutely crazy."

Draco found himself smiling before succumbing to a wave of anxiety mingled with butterflies. Hermione. Hermione Weasley, formerly Granger, who had somehow turned his world upside down without him even realizing what had been happening over time.

With a sigh, he let the magic die around him and caught his cookbook before it fell to the floor. "I have a problem."

Theo tilted his head. "Problem?"

Draco nodded and set the cookbook down on the counter before finally saying out loud, "I...might have developed...a liking towards Granger."

Theo's sudden smile was bigger than his face could allow and it barely depicted how ecstatic he was. "That's great! I was wondering when she was going to get under your skin. Why is that a problem though? Surely it's not a blood issue, is it?"

"No, no, not a blood issue," Draco shook his head. "She wouldn't be friends with me if that part of me still existed. It's the fact that she's a widow, Theo. She's in love with her husband like he's still here. There's no way that I can compete with that."

"Who says you have to compete?" Theo shrugged. "Think about this: It's like that one ex that you'll never stop loving. She'll always still be there, but taking up a small part of your heart instead of the whole thing, and letting you love someone else."

Draco couldn't help but feel a mix of sadness and joy for him. Theo knew all too well about "that one ex." Daphne Greengrass (now Livingston) to be precise. They had been together for four years before she decided to end it. It had torn him apart in the worst way and had ruined him again when he heard that she had gotten married some three years ago. Franny was the first woman Theo had deemed girlfriend-worthy since Daphne, and Draco was thrilled for him.

"Something like that takes time," Draco sighed. "Time much longer than a year. Granger's not ready to be with me, and I don't even know if she likes me in that way."

"Well, that's an easy fix. Ask her."

Draco looked like he could've died. "Ask her? You want me to ask a  _still_  grieving widow if she likes someone new?  _Me_  in particular?"

Theo lifted his shoulders and sat at the kitchen counter. "Yeah, why not?"

"Because she might say no!"

"Or she could say yes," Theo countered with a cheeky grin. "There  _is_  more than one possibility, you know."

"Yeah, well, one of those possibilities scares the hell out of me," Draco groaned. He sat down at the counter just like Theo and placed his head in his hands. Theo rubbed his chin as he analyzed him. Tight shoulders. A heavy frown. Deep breaths escaping his lips and saying everything the blond hadn't yet said.

"It'll eat you up inside if you don't tell her. Having an answer, the one you want or not, is better than not knowing."

Draco raised his head. "Not when your heart can break in the process."

"So you're not going to say anything?" Theo asked in a dejected tone.

"...Not right now, no," Draco decided after a small pause. "I only just came to the realization. I should explore it first. Maybe look for clues that she might feel the same before I put my heart on the line?"

Theo scoffed. "Sounds like avoidance to me."

"Being careful," Draco amended.

Another scoff from Theo and he shook his head. "Whatever you say, mate."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Now, of course they weren't going to fall into each other's arm that easy lol. Now Fiery Pearl, I believe you did mention something about Hermione running from her emotions and you're precisely right. Although, you may find her less running and more hesitating in one spot with baby steps :)
> 
> -WP


	13. Walking on Tiptoes

_April 5th, 2013_

Draco's counseling session with Astoria went as usual. She droned on and on about how he wasn't attentive, how he didn't try to work things out, and about how she was being a model wife. Draco couldn't help but snort at that last bit and then proceeded to make it  _absolutely clear_  that he was still very much looking forward to the divorce and to being free of his walking, talking hell of a marriage partner. The session ended with a huff from his wife and the stomp of her feet.

"Four more months," Draco breathed to himself. He left the counselor's office with a skip to his step and a whistle from his lips.

"Elle s'appelle comment?" Madame Roche asked him as he passed. Draco tilted his head.

"Qui?"

"La femme qui te fait sourire."

Draco smiled further and crossed his arms over his chest. "J'ai fini ma probation d'un mois. Pourquoi penses-tu qu'une femme en ai la raison?"

"L'intuition," Madame Roche beamed brightly. Draco laughed and shook his head.

"À la prochaine," he grinned sheepishly and then headed towards the exit.

In truth, he hadn't been smiling because of Hermione, however, he was now. It had been nearly a month since he admitted to himself that he liked her as more than just a friend and he'd yet to say anything. Theo had vowed not to step one foot into his house until he did. Since the man had only communicated with him through Floo and letters for the past two weeks, he was keeping true to his word. As for Draco he'd been keeping  _his_  word about looking out for signs that Hermione liked him back. Unfortunately, there was one major downside to that: he didn't know what he was looking for.

Draco was as clueless as one could be when initiating romance of any kind. He could chalk it up to the fact that he didn't have any practice in doing so since he had never really dated in his past. Pansy didn't count considering that he had been an early teen and she'd been more of an enamoured girl than a girlfriend. A certain Dark Lord rising put a halt to any possible romantic interests, and trying to keep himself from spiraling into depression after the war didn't lend itself to wanting to date. Draco could honestly say that Astoria was his first girlfriend, and that was using the term lightly. They had been betrothed to each other, meaning a short courting season. They were married soon after that, and following the marriage was a long-winded journey of trying to love her, but falling short at every turn.

Draco's feelings for Hermione then weren't just new because he had never liked her before, but they were new feelings,  _period._  He never had the luxury to like someone as he did now. To get that sick feeling in your stomach. To have sweaty hands. To be easily embarrassed. To have beet red cheeks. He was an absolute mess. If only he could figure out if he was in this (pleasantly) agonizing state alone or not.

* * *

_April 6th, 2013_

"I'm going to throw up."

"So am I," Harry said, although he was grinning like an idiot as he said so. Hermione shot him a glare, but he only laughed. "Come on, Hermione. You like  _Malfoy_. And you're here making me help you pick out an outfit that says, 'I made an effort to look nice, but not too nice.' You really expect me not to poke fun at you?"

"You're a terrible person to me sometimes," Hermione said as she walked back into her closet. Even deep in between hangers she could hear him laughing.

Yes, she had told Harry about her newfound and confusing feelings for Draco. She was less concerned with  _who_  she liked compared to her liking someone at all. She even went so far as to ask her mother how long was an appropriate time after the death of a spouse to date. In hindsight that had been a poor choice to make because then her mother began asking a million questions. Hermione was honest and told her, and her mother, bless her heart, said she was happy that her daughter had found someone who cared about her. Needless to say, her mother agreed with Ginny about Draco's doting nature.

It had been a near month since "the encounter" as she liked to call it. Since then Hermione had been analyzing everything Draco did to make sure that she wasn't crazy. That her feelings were real and that he really did like her. How horrible would it be if he was just being nice and she was taking everything out of proportion? She would die of embarrassment and unrequited feelings, definitely.

"These?" Hermione questioned as she held up a pair of dark blue denims and a dark brown blouse.

Harry swiped his fingers over a beard that wasn't there and asked, "Shoes?"

Hermione put both pieces of clothing in one hand before diving back into her closet. She came back out with a pair of calf-length brown boots and dropped them at Harry's feet.

"Alright then, cowgirl Granger," Harry nodded. "I think you're good to go."

" _Cowgirl?_ " Hermione choked. She then shook her head and grabbed the shoes. "Not a chance. I'm changing the clothes."

Harry laughed hysterically as he got up and took the boots from her. "Come on, I was joking. Sort of. Besides, Malfoy's not even going to know what a cowgirl is."

"Maybe not, but  _I do._ "

"Then change the shoes and keep the top. You'll be fine."

Hermione stared at the clothes in her hands and groaned as she finally nodded. Harry was not only amused by his friend, but also intrigued. As he watched her dump the shirt and denims onto the bed before heading back into her closet, he really studied her. With Ron it had been easy. When you're friends with someone for years before romance begins, being around him or her is just...natural. You knew that person. At times you  _were_  that person, depending on the nature of the friendship. Although Hermione had dated someone else before Ron, this was different. Harry had never seen her so worked up over someone. And even though the idea of her being the significant other to someone other than Ron saddened him to a certain extent, seeing her on the cusp of caring for someone and  _being_  cared for, well...it was nice.

"Are these better?" Hermione asked him. She was holding up a pair of short, black ankle boots. Harry honestly wanted to hug her and never let go.

"Yes."

* * *

Scorpius was eagerly awaiting his friends as he always did when they were scheduled to come through his father's fireplace. Although Draco was just as happy to have them over (particularly Hermione), he wasn't going to look  _that_  excited for it. It dawned on him for a moment that that might be a bad thing. Maybe he should show a bit more enthusiasm?

"Get a grip on yourself," Draco groaned.

"What did I do?" Scorpius asked innocently. Draco looked down to his side and smiled.

"Nothing. I was talking to myself."

"Oh… Don't do that. People might think you're crazy."

Draco laughed. "I'll try to remember that."

The fireplace suddenly ignited in front of them and seconds later Hermione walked out with Rose and Hugo in hand. The children immediately greeted each other while the two adults awkwardly stood nearby. The nervous glances. The childish swing on the back of their heels.

 _Oh, this is ridiculous,_  Hermione griped internally.

"How did you hear about this place?" She asked him. Draco seemed to have been roused from inner thoughts at her question, but snapped back quickly.

"Flyer while walking about town one day," Draco explained. "With how much I'm in London I'm surprised that I hadn't found out about it sooner. Regardless, it seemed like a fun place to take the kids if the crazy amount of colors and costumes were anything to go by."

Hermione laughed. "Yeah, that's usually a pretty good sign. Shall we go then?"

"Sure. Come on guys," Draco said as he reached out his hand to Scorpius. "Child-adult formation as usual."

"Child-adult formation" was a term that both he and Hermione had come up with over time as they all apparated together. With two adults and three children, either Rose or Hugo would hold onto Hermione's left hand, the other on her right who'd also hold onto Draco's left hand, and then Scorpius on his right. It ensured proper apparation so that no one splinched and so that no one got lost along the way.

The group landed at an apparation spot not too far from the West End at Piccadilly Circus and made their way to the Rainforest Café. Draco hadn't lied about all of the colors. What he neglected to mention was that the restaurant had truly taken the whole rainforest theme to heart. There were faux trees everywhere, a massive gorilla in one corner, and birds on the ceiling. Throw in the rainforest "ambience music" and the two families had honestly transported themselves to somewhere other than London.

"This is so cool!" Hugo exclaimed. Clearly Rose and Scorpius were in agreement as they squealed in delight at the sound of the gorilla making loud noises and banging its animatronic fists against his chest. Both Hermione and Draco had jumped at that and flushed terribly at having done that around each other.

"Hi there," a waitress came up to them. "Can I seat you all? Table for five, yes?"

"Sure, and yes," Draco smiled and allowed the young girl, probably working at the restaurant while going to school, brought them to a big enough table and passed out menus.

Once they were seated, Hermione leaned over a bit and whispered to Draco, "You don't think the birds are going to start squawking overhead, do you?"

"I hope not," he chuckled. "I just may shoot a spell at them and none of us need to get arrested by the muggle version of Aurors."

Hermione laughed although she fully believed that they would all be taken in handcuffs if Draco began waving around a stick and shooting Latin-based words at things.

"Mum," Rose got her attention. "For my birthday can we have it here, pretty please?"

"If that's what you want then of course we can," Hermione agreed before picking up a menu.

"Speaking of birthdays," Draco chimed in to Hermione. "You're going to be receiving a 'formal invitation' for Scorpius' birthday party in a few days."

Hermione looked up from her menu at the irritated tone that he had spoken in and leaned her head to one side. "You don't sound too happy about it."

"You caught that, did you?" Draco smiled. "Astoria's sending it. A 'royal invitation' for a 'royal affair' at some place she rented when the house was a perfectly good location."

"I'm surprised that she would send one honestly. Considering how she feels about me I would've figured she'd let you handle telling me."

"Oh, she would have, but I know nothing of what's been planned to even tell you. My own invitation should be coming at some point also," Draco added in a grumble.

Hermione frowned. "Well, that's not fair. As Scorpius' father you should've had at least  _some_  hand in the planning."

"Agreed. Usually I do, but this time around I'm wholly convinced this is all about her and one last hoorah. Throw in the fact that I detested her party planning ideas, she went through with planning without me."

Hermione frowned even further. She hated seeing Draco this way. A usually confident man, the topic of his wife could bring him down faster than anything.

"Is Scorpius happy about the party at least?"

"He gets to be a king for the day," Draco answered with a quick glance at his son. He was having an animated conversation with Rose and Hugo and it made his heart soar watching him. "He's ecstatic."

"Then think about that instead of Astoria," Hermione offered. "Scorpius' happiness is all that matters, isn't it?"

"It's all that's ever mattered. Until lately," he added in a mumble.

"What was that?"

Draco coughed. "Nothing. But you're right. So long as he's happy, then I'm happy. It's  _you_  we have to worry about."

Hermione's brow furrowed. "Me? Why me?"

"Need I remind you that this will be Hugo's birthday party, but in reverse? It'll be nothing but members from both my family and Astoria's. Purebloods galore in all their prejudiced glory and  _you_  being the only muggleborn in the room."

Hermione couldn't help it. A slow smile began to crawl onto her lips and she cupped the side of her face with her hand. "Why, Mr. Malfoy, are you worried for my safety?"

Draco was taken aback. He'd been completely serious in what he was saying, but the light, cheery tone lacing Hermione's words was anything but. It was…sweet, yet teasing, and pulling at the strings that dictated his attraction to her. Merlin, was he truly this pathetic at just a simple playful question?

"Well, they're not going to poison you," Draco said with an oddly placed smile to match hers. "Do their best to hurt your feelings probably, degrade you. Anything along those lines."

"If that's going to be all then I think I'll be fine. Even then, um…" Hermione swallowed and added tentatively, "Just…don't leave my side while I'm there, okay?"

"I'll never leave you…alone," he added at the last minute. Blood was rushing to his cheeks quickly and Hermione caught it. It was the bedroom moment all over again. So simple. So innocuous a gesture, and here she was with a fluttering mess in her stomach.

Hermione sighed and muttered, "I'm hopeless."

"You're what?"

"Hungry," she corrected. "Just hungry. We should order."

* * *

 _April 28_ _th_ _, 2013_

"A castle?" Ginny scoffed. "Scorpius' birthday party is going to be in a  _castle?_ "

"Unbelievable, isn't it?" Hermione said as she stared at the clothes Ginny had put on her bed moments earlier. "But it was perfect for the 'royalty' theme. I swear, every birthday party I throw next for my kids is going to pale terribly in comparison. Hey, what are you doing?"

"You just said that Scorpius' birthday party is going to be held  _in a castle,_ " Ginny tutted. She had taken the three outfits from off of the bed and charged right back into Hermione's closet. "You're going to be surrounded by all of Malfoy's family  _and_  his wife's. None of these are going to do."

"Oh for heaven's sake," Hermione rolled her eyes. "I don't know why I ask you and Harry for opinions on my clothing. It's not even a date!"

"Merlin help you when the time comes that we have to pick out an outfit for a date. You have absolutely nothing date-worthy in this closet of yours."

Hermione snorted. "Thanks?"

"You're welcome!" Ginny shouted brightly from the back of her closet. Hermione shook her head in defeat and plopped herself down on her bed as she waited for the redhead to come out with whatever combination of clothes she deemed appropriate for a child's birthday, yet surrounded by the pureblood social elite and her potential love interest.

"You have to look your best," Ginny said as she came back out with a pile in her hand. "Who knows? This might be the night he finally admits to how he feels!"

A brown brow rose high in the air as Hermione stared at her. "At his son's birthday? I think that's the last thing to be on Draco's mind  _if_  he even feels the same."

Ginny suddenly dropped the clothes she was holding and it all fell to the floor in one clean swoop. "Oh… You called him 'Draco.'"

Hermione felt embarrassment creep into her neck. "Let it go, Ginny."

"Have you been calling him that?"

"No," she admitted. "It slips out every now and again while I'm alone. I've been…sort of…testing it out," she added, her gaze looking everywhere but the other woman in the room who was grinning from ear to ear. "But we're off the main point here. This is a festive affair for a young boy. Malfoy's not going to be all in his feelings if he has them."

"One key word there: festive," Ginny said vibrantly. "You'd be amazed at how a party of any caliber can make someone prone to 'feelings.' And need I remind you that yes, Malfoy does feel the same, even if you need someone to write it in the sky for you. The signs are there and you're just in denial. Not to mention killing precious time you could be enjoying his company as a couple. It's been how long since your confession to me?"

Hermione let out an exasperated sigh. "A month. A month and a week or two."

"A month and a week or two," Ginny groaned. "You could be cuddled in the man's arms by now."

"Ginny, you've absolutely gone mad," Hermione laughed. "I can't believe that you're so passionate about this. I'm the one who's bending over backwards in emotions over the man."

Ginny's face immediately softened. "Hermione… Are you really?"

Hermione bit her lip and slowly nodded. "I just wish that I wasn't so terrified to tell him. Or just feeling how I feel in general."

"It's about Ron, again, yes?"

"When is it ever not about him?" Hermione took a deep breath and fell back onto her bed. "I think about what you said often, you know. About me not staying single forever and that it's okay to be scared. I repeat it like a mantra, but of course it doesn't make either any easier."

Ginny sat down and then lay down on the bed next to her. "How about this… Give yourself a deadline. Some sort of set time where you tell Malfoy how you feel, if he doesn't tell you about his feelings first, of course."

Hermione turned her head to face the redhead and scrunched her brows together in thought. "Okay. Well, his divorce is finalized in August. I suppose that could-"

"-be too far away," Ginny cut her off. "Choose a closer date, please."

Hermione chuckled. "Alright, alright, um… June? That's a healthy midway point between now and August."

"June it is. Now, come on. We have to get you dressed."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There are some stories that paint Draco as sexually experienced and as someone who's had women galore, but sometimes that's hard for me to imagine (although still fun to read!). Thinking of him without that experience, especially in this story, really makes his connection/relationship with Hermione even more special than it's already shaping up to be. And then you go to Hermione who also doesn't have an insane dating history, but at least one relationship that was her everything. When you think about it, they both have a lot of personal boundaries to jump :)
> 
> Also, fun fact: The Rainforest Cafe is actually a real place that I found thanks to Google. Seemed like a fun place!
> 
> FRENCH THINGS! Massive thanks to Virginie Cires for keeping my French in check when I make errors!: Madame Roche asked Draco "What's her name?" and when he answers "Who?" she replies "The woman who's making you smile." Draco says that he just got out of his monthly prison sentence and asks why she thinks a woman's the reason. She cheekily says, "Intuition." I love her haha!
> 
> -WP


	14. A Royal Affair

Draco was just as annoyed at the invitation in his hand now as he had been when he first got it. The attire for the evening was “fancy casual” which meant that there was an emphasis on the “fancy.” This wasn’t a party for Scorpius. This was for her. A way to show off her wealth (which was _his_ wealth considering that she still had access to the Malfoy vaults), and to probably bask in it for next few months until she no longer could. However, to keep his anger at bay, he thought about what Hermione had told him. So long as Scorpius was happy then nothing else mattered. And yes, he was over the moon about the party and had been talking about it nonstop whenever they Floo Called each other.

And so, he buttoned his cuffs, forgoing any cufflinks, and stood in front of his mirror doing and undoing the top button on his collar for the millionth time.

“Oh, to hell with it,” Draco swore as he flicked open the button and left it undone. He picked up an enormous box with Scorpius’ name on it and held it over his shoulder. He headed to the fireplace and after a moment of Flooing he was coming out on the other end to what he now considered to be his favorite house.

“Hi, Mr. Malfoy!” Rose greeted happily. “You look really nice.”

“Thank you, Rose,” Draco smiled. “So do you and your brother. Where’s your mum?”

“Upstairs with our Aunt Ginny,” Hugo answered before turning to face the staircase beyond them. “Mum! Scorpius’ dad is here!”

“Coming!” Hermione shouted back.

For Draco, her voice had signaled a rise in blood pressure, heart rate, and several…other things. It wasn’t a very rare occurrence these days for him to be waiting for her to come downstairs, however, it wasn’t too often where she would be more dressed up than the norm. Maybe he should change that? He quite liked it when she went up and beyond. It was like putting a cherry on top of an already sweet desert.

“Malfoy.”

His name, yes, but it wasn’t the voice that he was accustomed to hearing it in.

“I was expecting a different witch,” Draco said to Ginny, tucking his hands into his pockets. The redhead grinned maliciously and crossed her arms.

“I do believe she said that she was coming,” Ginny replied. “A man is always ready to go when his date is putting on last minute touches.”

Draco choked. “It’s a birthday party.”

“A wholesome date then,” she replied cheekily.

With the word “date” swimming in the air, Draco immediately glanced over at Rose and Hugo, but thank goodness they were out of earshot. Before he could think of a reply, footsteps got his attention, not to mention took away any words he could have possibly said. Hermione had managed to pin down “fancy casual” appropriately. A purple dress, the perfect color for a royal theme, with broad shoulder straps, a black belt around her waist, a soft flare that reached her knees, and black shoes. And her hair was just as he liked to see it at times, piled neatly at the back of her head and held together with a clip. He still had no idea how she was able to tame her half-wild hair into something so elegant.

“Hermione, I think you killed him,” Ginny laughed devilishly. Draco snapped out of his trance at that and hoped his face had retained its natural color.

“Gin, be nice,” Hermione smiled.

“Do I have to?” She cackled. “Oh alright. I have to get home before the kids drive Harry up the wall anyway,” she said as she turned to Rose and Hugo and gave them both hugs. “Have fun you guys. I want to hear everything that happened at the party when you get back. And you,” she added to Hermione in a smirk, “I expect the same.”

“Yes, mum,” Hermione replied with a hand on her cheek to hide her shame. Ginny left via Floo and the brunette faced Draco once she was gone. “She didn’t say anything crazy to you, did she?”

Draco shrugged and let the corners of his mouth curl upwards. “What’s your definition of crazy?”

“If you have to ask then I think I’m safe.”

“Mum, can we go now?” Rose pleaded with her mother. Hermione looked down at her and nodded. “Yes. Here,” she said as she opened up a small black clutch that Draco hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Put Scorpius’ gift in this.”

Rose picked up a box a little smaller than the one Draco had brought along and held it over Hermione’s clutch. As big as it was, it slipped into the small opening with ease and completely disappeared. Hermione turned to Draco with her clutch still open.

“Do you want to put yours in here too?”

“What spell did you put on it?” Draco asked as he lifted his gift.

“Charm,” she corrected. “An Undetectable Extension Charm to be precise. It comes in handy when you’re travelling with kids and you want to make sure that you haven’t forgotten anything.”

“I’ll say,” he nodded. “We should get going. Hold on tight as always, alright?” Draco added to Rose and Hugo.

Although Flooing cross-country was more preferable than apparating, the place that Astoria had rented was too “exclusive” to allow Floo entry. And so, apparating would have to do. However, as they were preparing to leave, it suddenly occurred to Hermione that they had never done child-adult formation with just two children before. The idea was that an adult held onto a child’s hand. Well, Rose was on her left. This meant that Hugo had to be on Draco’s right. The two remaining hands then of each parent…well, they would have to hold onto each other’s, wouldn’t they?

Draco, too, had come to the same conclusion as he reached out his hand to her. Hermione paused for a moment before slipping her hand into his. It was warm. Hers was soft. They both locked eyes for a moment before Draco curled his fingers around her hand.

“Hang tight,” Draco said unnecessarily, but his stomach pleasantly turned when Hermione held onto his hand tighter. He disapparated after that and when they landed Hermione’s mouth dropped. All of theirs did actually. If the two adults weren’t already familiar with what Hogwarts looked like, they would think that’s where they were. On the contrary, it was smaller than the illustrious and infamous school and there was also no lake (that they could see, anyway).

“This must have cost a fortune,” Hermione breathed.

“Yeah. I wonder just how much,” Draco grumbled from beside her. Hermione looked at him and gave his hand yet another squeeze. He closed his eyes and nodded to himself, gently urging her, Rose and Hugo to walk along the winding path that they had apparated to. Not that it was difficult. They were all still holding hands, after all.

The castle was situated on the top of a hill which meant that the path they were walking on turned into stairs at some point. The doors were large, no _massive_ , and must’ve reached fifteen feet high. Possibly higher.

“Mum, you have to knock,” Hugo said.

“Oh, sweetheart, even if I did I doubt very much that anyone would hear me.”

“Well, we’ve got to try anyway,” Draco said as he (regrettably) let go of Hermione’s hand so that he could give the enormous barrier a couple of raps. Turned out that he only need one knock for the doors to part ways.

“Good evening!” A small house elf greeted once the doors were opened. “Children may follow me to the play area while adults may continue right in.”

Rose and Hugo all put pried their hands away from the adults and followed the house elf to where the rest of the kids were supposed to be. That left Hermione and Draco to “continue right in” as the house elf said, and it wasn’t until he and the children were gone that they realized the “adult” party was directly in front of them.

Draco hadn’t been joking when he had alluded to the pureblood fest. Hermione spotted his parents almost instantly. There were also people who looked like him who had to be members of his family she had never seen before. Astoria was there, mingling and being the gracious host. Daphne Greengrass was also easily recognizable, but if the ring on her finger was anything to go by, she wasn’t a Greengrass anymore. There were other people that Hermione didn’t necessarily know by name, but she had seen their faces courtesy of the Daily Prophet and other news outlets for deeds that may have been less than savory. A couple, to her dismay, had also been on trial for their hand in the Second Wizarding War but never convicted.

“Merlin,” Hermione said quietly. “You weren’t kidding about the guestlist.”

“Do you regret coming now?” Draco asked, genuinely interested in her answer, but Hermione waved him off.

“No, no, it’s fine. Besides, you braved my lot for Hugo. This is only fair.”

“It’s hardly fair when your lot is much kinder than mine. I guess it’s a good thing I said that I wouldn’t leave your side tonight,” Draco grinned as he held out his arm to her. Hermione eagerly hooked her arm with his and took a deep breath as the two of them entered the room filled with partygoers. Not that the party lasted very long. The further in they walked, conversations died around them and whispers occurred in their stead. Of course, no one stared harder than Astoria and Draco’s parents.

“Draco,” Astoria greeted. She turned her eyes on Hermione and the hatred was just _dripping_ off of her. “And Ms. Weasley. The both of you. _Together._ ”

Even from her periphery Hermione could see how hard Draco was restraining himself. Instead of lashing out, he put on a fake, albeit still somewhat believable smile and said, “With no Floo access I couldn’t very well let Ms. Weasley apparate cross country with two young children by herself. Common courtesy dictated me.”

Astoria returned the fake façade and nodded. “Of course it did. Have you seen Scorpius yet?”

“If I knew where to find him in this massive gala you’ve thrown then I would have.”

Astoria rose a perfectly shaped brow before she called for a house elf. When it appeared at her side she ordered, “Take Master Malfoy to see his son.”

Although grateful for the escort, it was evident that Draco didn’t want to go. He shot a glance at Hermione, conveying every sort of sorry that he couldn’t say out loud before she gently patted him on the shoulder and extracted her arm from him.

“Go on,” she encouraged. “I’ll just stay here with-”

“Me and your parents,” Astoria offered graciously. _As if_ that helped soothed Draco any. He seemed more determined than ever to stay, but a reassuring nod from Hermione as well as a soft push made him hold in his groan and follow the house elf to where his son was. Hermione watched him as he left, and when she couldn’t see him anymore, she became fully aware of the prejudiced den she had been left in.

“Come, Ms. Weasley. I shall show you the gardens until Draco returns.”

Nothing could have surprised her more than to hear such an invitation from Lucius Malfoy. He had been off to the side with his wife watching the exchange between his son and Astoria with Hermione as the third wheel. Now he had closed the space and was standing next to his daughter-in-law, his arm outstretched to the stunned brunette.

“O-of course,” Hermione stammered. She hated that she had. By the slight curling of his lips, it was obvious that Lucius was enjoying her discomfort.

The hushed whispers that had encircled Hermione and Draco when they had come in had returned. With Lucius on her arm and the heavy stares it was hard to appreciate the work that Astoria had put into Scorpius’ birthday. The photographs of him on the walls. The ample food set on long tables along the walls. The venue itself was nothing but a shiny golden room with marbled floors and walls buffed to perfection and the chandeliers on the ceiling. There was even a King’s chair. She imagined that would be where Scorpius would sit when the time came for it.

Before Hermione knew it she and Lucius had walked out of two large double doors and onto a balcony. The gardens were down below and, yes, they were lovely with their intricate pathways containing various kinds of flowers and statues to admire.

A gentle tug on her arm reminded Hermione that Lucius was with her. The breathtaking sight lost some of its beauty then when they descended the winding staircase to reach the grounds.

“I knew that you would be in attendance, but I didn't think that you would arrive on Draco's arm,” Lucius said as they stepped down from the last stair.

“He wanted to assure safe travel,” Hermione replied simply. “Cross-country apparation can be quite dangerous.”

That curve of his lips was back. It was horrifying to witness first-hand where Draco got it from. It looked far better on the younger Malfoy, though.

“Of course he did. My son was brought up with manners. Although,” he added with a throaty chuckle, “manners or not, I believe that he would have accompanied you either way.”

“I don't doubt that. Draco's a good-natured person.”

“I agree, but we both know that's not the reason why.”

Hermione could see where this was going. Draco had even warned her of such. If this was the way the conversation was going to go, she had might as well take the reins on it.

“I know what you're insinuating, Mr. Malfoy,” Hermione said, stopping their walk and gently disentangling her arm from his so that she could face him. “Draco told me what you think is going on between us. There's nothing, by the way. And even if there was,” she bravely plowed on, “what would it matter?”

“Perhaps it matters nothing to you, but to us and to the people in the castle behind us it matters a great deal. Namely Draco's _wife._ ”

“They're getting divorced.”

“So you think. I hear that they're working through their differences quite swimmingly.”

Hermione couldn't help her laugh and she crossed her arms over her chest. “Obviously you've been talking to Astoria and not to Draco because things between them is going anything _but_ swimmingly. She cares nothing for him.”

Lucius, eyes narrowed and clearly angered, huffed loudly. “No one cares for him more than his wife.”

“I do.  _I_ care.”

The admission filled the air between them and made it deafeningly quiet. Hermione had finally admitted her feelings to someone other than her friends and it was to Draco's father no less. The man stared at her like a bug to be squashed and practically hissed his words out.

“And the truth has been revealed.”

Hermione swallowed deeply, but she said nothing more. Silence lingered everywhere for what felt like an eternity.

“Father,” Draco approached out of nowhere. The tense pair looked over at him, the elder Malfoy pulling back his snarl and Hermione with a defiant chin lifted. Draco cleared his throat. “May I resume my escort duties now?”

Lucius adjusted his collar and gave a barely there nod before walking off. Draco's eyes trailed after him before settling back on Hermione.

“I'm sorry for whatever he said to you.”

“It's fine, really,” Hermione reassured him, thrilled that his father was now gone. “Your father frightens me a lot less now than when I was a girl.”

“Understandable. His Dark Mark isn't showing.”

Hermione paused and suddenly stared at Draco as though she was looking at him for the first time. He felt his stomach turn with the intensity of her gaze, but he didn't look away.

“What is it?” Draco asked. Hermione finally blinked.

“Oh, I'm…  I'm sorry.” Hermione was blushing terribly at this point, but she hammered on as she tucked a loose strand of hair behind her ear. “It's just that when you mentioned the Dark Mark, it suddenly occurred to me that I haven't seen yours. Not once in all these months.”

Draco was the one staring now, but he didn't let his fixed gaze halt his movements. He undid the cuff of his left sleeve and slowly rolled it up. Hermione's heart rate rose with it, and she saw it then. Oddly enough, it wasn't as she remembered it. It had been darker, and there'd been more intricate details. It had been more menacing too. Either Hermione had learned to deal with her inner demons, or the Dark Mark had lost something.

“Is it faded?”

“Yes,” Draco answered. He regretted his flinch when Hermione stretched out her hand and let her fingers trace what was left. “It happened to all of the second generation Deatheaters, thank Merlin. And…” He gulped, placing his hand over her moving one. “Thank you, too.”

Hermione furrowed her brow. “What for?”

“For not noticing before. For…seeing me. _Just_ me.”

Hermione didn't know what to make of his face. He seemed...relieved. It was like a weight she didn't know he'd been carrying had lifted from his shoulders. She smiled and put her free hand over his, laughing shortly at how he just _had_ to outdo her and remove his arm from under her hand and put it on top.

They stood there, their hands sandwiched, and the both of them giggling like schoolchildren.

“Dad!”

Draco and Hermione immediately let their hands fall to their sides as Scorpius ran across the gardens to them.

Completely tuckered out, but filled with joy nonetheless, he breathed out, “Le gâteau est ici! Je répète, _le_ _g_ _âteau est ici!_ ”

Draco laughed. “Okay, okay. Nous arrivons. Garde deux sièges près de toi.”

Scorpius beamed and ran back to the castle. Draco shook his head and turned to Hermione who was doing some head shaking of her own.

“Show off.”

Draco smirked. “Would you expect anything less?” He extended his hand to her and she took it so that they could head back to the castle hand-in-hand. It seemed natural to do so. Comfortable even. Although, they did break the hold once they were inside bearing in mind the company that awaited them.

The rest of the party went better. Draco was attached to Hermione's hip for the rest of the evening with the exception of cake cutting and gift giving. Neither missed several pairs of eyes as Hermione took out both Rose and Hugo's and Draco's gifts to Scorpius from the charmed purse. While they would like to think that everyone was impressed with the useful magic, it was more that they wondered why Hermione was carrying Draco's things.

Regardless, Draco refused to think on it. Instead he preferred to gain joy from watching his son open his gift and go wild with excitement at the new Lego set he could add to his never-ending collection.

“More of those muggle toys, Draco?” Astoria huffed in a whisper.

“A toy is a toy, Astoria,” Draco huffed back. “Does it matter if it’s muggle or not?”

“That woman has rubbed off on you.”

Draco couldn't resist a taunting smile as he replied, “Envy doesn’t look good on you, love.”

“So, you admit it then?” Astoria quickly accused. “You've taken a liking to her.”

“What do you want me to say?” Draco groaned angrily. “That I’ve…fallen head over heels in love with her and everything that she does?”

Astoria let her arms fall as she fully turned to her husband. Draco, however, wouldn’t look at her. He kept his arms folded over his chest, his heart hammering inside at having admitted feelings that he’d only confessed to himself and Theo. Although he wasn’t at the love stage yet, he could very well see himself getting there.

“You have,” Astoria breathed. “You really have, haven’t you?”

“She’s my friend as I’ve said once before,” he lied. “It’s not my fault that you choose to believe otherwise.”

“Draco,-”

“Focus on your son, Astoria.”

But she couldn’t. Astoria spent the remainder of the time that Scorpius was opening his gifts reflecting on the short, but revealing conversation she had with Draco. As the party winded down, she couldn’t help but let her eyes gravitate to the brunette who was encroaching on her marriage.

“Scorpius adores your children.”

That was the second time that a Malfoy had made Hermione jump out of her skin. Luckily, it was an internal fright and she turned her attention away from Draco (who saying his goodbyes to his son) and to the woman who had addressed her.

“My children feel the same about him,” Hermione fondly replied. “They talk about being best friends forever.”

Astoria gave a cute little laugh into her hand that sounded horribly fake. “In that case, they'll love the house when they see it in the near future. Draco and I will give you all a tour.”

“Sorry?” Hermione furrowed her brows. “You both live in different houses.”

“For now,” Astoria answered curtly. “Draco and I will be back together soon enough. We've been married for ten years, you know.”

“I do. The divorce that you're going through must be terrible for you then,” Hermione couldn't resist adding with a full smile. Naturally, Astoria wasn't pleased. Her anger was evident if not for her reddening face, then by her crisp tone.

“Every marriage has their problems,” Astoria huffed. “This is no different.”

Denial. Rage. If Draco hadn't already told her enough about his wife, Hermione would have mistaken the woman's possessiveness as love. Knowing that it wasn't, she truly felt sorry that Draco spent these past ten years being coveted for all the wrong reasons.

“Are you ready to go?” Draco's voice came. Hermione turned to him and happily remarked that he had Rose by one hand and Hugo by another.

“Yes, we can go.” Hermione looked back at Astoria who was silently fuming at this point. “It was good to see you again.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hermione certainly held her own! This may or may not have some repercussions though. As for the French things, Scopirus was a darling and super excited about the cake, and Draco told him that he and Hermione were on their way and to save two seats near him.
> 
> Until the next chapter then :)
> 
> -WP


	15. Something New

_April 29th, 2013_

Draco was sitting in his favorite chair upstairs and looking at a strip of photographs that had been taken last night. Scorpius, Rose, and Hugo had persuaded him and Hermione to go into the wizarding equivalent of a photo booth before the night was out. In the first shot they were rather shy and the movement in the photograph showed them blushing and smiling to themselves as they looked down at their laps. The second one had them actually looking at the camera and glancing at each other once. The last one (the boldest one) had them hugging. Draco stared at that one the longest.

He had finally gotten up to put it away, stowing it in a book with the newspaper clipping he kept of the very witch and her friends. It was as he had slipped the book in its place that he heard his fireplace activating from downstairs. Draco furrowed his brow as he wasn't expecting anyone. Even then, he had high hopes that it would be Hermione although he knew it wouldn't be. Instead, he found it to be his mother.

"Mother? What are you doing here?" He asked as he approached. Narcissa merely grinned and slipped off the light scarf she had wrapped around her neck.

"What? A mother can't simply pay her son a visit?"

Draco's brow rose high on his head. "Well, yes, but you announce yourself without fail. Here, sit." He gestured for his mother to sit on one of the plush armchairs while he sat on the couch. "Is something wrong?"

"Wrong? Maybe not, but perhaps a bit concerning," Narcissa admitted. "It has come to your father's attention, as well as my own, that Ms. Weasley has developed feelings for you."

Draco could have fallen off his seat. In fact, he nearly did, but he instinctively dug his hands into the couch cushions to steady himself.

" _I'm sorry?_ "

"Ms. Weasley fancies you."

"How on earth would either of you know that?"

"That would be the fault of the witch," Narcissa explained. "Apparently she and your father argued and it slipped."

Draco would love to know what kind of argument Hermione and his father had been having that such an admission would come forth. Time for that later he supposed. The point of the matter was that she liked him.  _Hermione liked him._  When did it start?  _How_  did it start? And why hadn't she told him?

"Draco."

His mother's voice snapped him away from his thoughts. Having been brought back to reality, Draco realized that  _this_  was the reason she had come to see him. He leaned back in his seat then and refrained from crossing his arms over his chest. It wasn't polite when speaking to one's mother.

"Father sent you then, did he?" Draco accused. "To find out if I shared the same feelings? To give me a list of reasons why I shouldn't?"

"On the contrary, I came on behalf of Astoria."

"Of course, my cheating wife. Yes, please, continue."

Narcissa sighed before saying very tentatively, "I know that Astoria hasn't been...the best wife-"

Draco snorted.

"-but she's made an effort to change."

"You might want to look up the definition of 'effort,' Mother, because I can assure you that she hasn't."

"She has severed all ties with the gentleman she had been entertaining."

Well  _that_  was news to Draco. Last he checked his wife and whichever Frenchman she was with were getting along fine. Then again, that had been early in the year and a lot could change in a few months. He could certainly attest to that.

"She did so fearing that she was losing you to Ms. Weasley," Narcissa furthered. "And after what she shared of your conversation last night, I can't help but believe it to be true." His mother frowned before moving from her seat and sitting on the couch with him. At such close range, Draco could see it: the worry in her eyes. It was laughable, but that was also something that one didn't do in front of their mother.

"So, it took a potential relationship with someone else for Astoria to realize that she was in the wrong?" Draco rhetorically asked. "Lovely."

"Draco, be reasonable."

"No, Mother,  _you_  be reasonable," he said seriously. "You and Father have been trying to save the sinking ship that was my marriage for years. Had it even floated at all? But Granger… She makes me feel wanted and needed without her even having to say so. And for weeks, months even, I've found myself doing everything that I can to keep her happy because it's what I want to do. Because seeing her anything less than that upsets me.

'And if what I've just said hasn't made it clear, I'll say this: I'm going to tell Granger that she's not alone in how she feels. I'm going to continue with the divorce from Astoria. And when it's over? I'm going to date Granger if she'll have me. It'll be the first choice in my love life that  _I_  get to make. And I  _will_  make it, Mother, whether you, or Father, or whoever else likes it or not."

Narcissa started blankly at her son. So passionate he had been with his words. She hadn't seen a fire lit up in him like that since… Well, she never had.

She could say nothing as a rebuttal and simply nodded. It was a sad scenario, but Astoria was too late. She had already lost her husband.

* * *

_May 10th, 2013_

"Scorpius wants to see you this weekend."

"That's fine," Theo nodded. "Bring him by the house and we'll have a grand time."

" _Here,_ " Draco emphasized. "Scorpius wants you to come here so that he can show you this thing he built with his Legos."

"Hmm, well, tell my godson that I'd love to, but his father has yet to tell a certain witch that he fancies her  _even after finding out that she likes him._ "

Draco rolled his eyes and sighed. "It's been nearly two months, Theo."

"Precisely! Granger gave you the go ahead and you still haven't said anything. What are you waiting for? Christmas?"

"Well, it would certainly make a romantic gesture."

Theo shook his head, glowing embers flying out of the fireplace as he did. Draco used his wand to out them before a fire started. "Honestly, Draco. Why haven't you told her? It's not like you don't know how she feels. It's an easy win."

"Because I'm a paranoid idiot who keeps thinking that there's a reason why she hasn't told me," Draco frowned bitterly. "What if it's because she's scared? What if she's holding back because of her husband?"

"Or, what if she hasn't told you because she was unsure of how  _you_ felt?" Theo countered smartly.

"Or the first thing."

"Bleeding hell. Look, if you don't tell her before the month is out  _I'm_ doing it."

Draco choked on air. "I beg your pardon?"

"That's right," Theo nodded. "As you well remember I'm an excellent forger. A small written note from you to her should get this all squared away."

Draco's face fell. "You wouldn't."

"Damn straight I would. Besides, from what you've told me all of pureblood society thinks you two are together anyway."

That, unfortunately, was true. Aside from enjoying Hermione's company more than anyone who had been there (aside from his son, Rose, and Hugo, of course), Draco hadn't wanted to leave her alone. Once had been enough and she had ended up with his father. However, instead of people seeing him as her escort for the night, it was seen as more. Talks of his cheating had floated about, absolutely infuriating him knowing his wife's exploits were completely damnable (whether she had stopped or not). But that was pureblood society for you. The husband was the head of house, the one responsible for the complete happiness of his family. If the wife was upset or sought her "intimacy" elsewhere, it was something that  _the husband_  had done and should correct. Utterly barbaric and unfair, Draco couldn't wait to break away from such atrocities. In the meantime, Astoria had brought up the rumors of his "mistress" during their recent counseling session. Draco had briefly been concerned, thinking that Monsieur Dupont would consider it grounds for extending the divorce process. Luckily, his explanation for the purely platonic outing was enough to get him off the hook. That and he needed "definitive proof" to add to their divorce profile with the Ministry for an extension of their divorce process.

"End of the month," Theo warned.

"Yeah, yeah," Draco grumbled. "Now, if you excuse me, Granger's going to be here any minute."

"Is she now? And what adventures do you have planned for today?"

"Distractions. It's the tenth."

Theo immediately frowned. "Oh. Good luck then. Give her my regards."

Draco nodded, bid his thanks, and waved Theo goodbye from the fireplace. Last month Hermione had put up less of a fight and allowed him to kidnap her yet again. He wasn't sure if it was because she knew that he wouldn't take no for answer or because she'd been at work and didn't want to cause a scene. He had shown up during lunch with food and they ate in her office. She then managed to take the rest of the afternoon off and they spent it reminiscing in their childhood by acting like total children in a muggle park. They had sat on swings, played on the jungle gym, and had the time of their life on the seesaw although their legs were far too long for it. It had been a good day, one where she'd been happy and carefree. What made it even better was the fact that  _he_  made her feel that way. What he wouldn't give to make her feel that way all the time.

"Malfoy?"

Draco looked up. He was still kneeling before the fireplace, but he wasn't alone. Hermione was standing beside him with a question obviously on her mind.

"Are you alright? You seemed to be in such a deep thought just now."

"I'm fine," Draco said as he finally stood. "Just glad that you came through the other fireplace. I might've singed my bits off otherwise."

Hermione laughed. "Right, we definitely wouldn't want that. Talking to Scorpius?"

"Theo, actually. He says hello."

"Oh, tell him I say the same. We should all hang out one day, I think. I would love to meet his girlfriend. Muggleborn you've mentioned, yes?"

Draco had been momentarily caught off guard. Her words had been sincere enough, but the meaning behind them had sent his thoughts in several different directions. But of course, there was only one way he was able to properly deal with pending awkwardness.

"You do realize that you've just asked for a double date, don't you?"

Draco's face lit up just as Hermione's fell. She began playing with the hems of her sleeves as she stuttered.

"I, well, I mean… I didn't  _exactly_  frame it like that. I just… I…" Hermione's cheeks felt hot and it was even more so when Draco crossed the space between them and looked down at her. With a finger under her chin he closed her mouth. Maybe he let his finger linger a little too long, but he didn't care, nor did Hermione mind.

"I quite enjoy making you stammer," Draco admitted.

Hermione grinned. "Leave it to you to take pleasure in my embarrassment."

"No one would enjoy it more," he laughed. "Come on and let's enjoy the evening. I can't steal you away from your children for the whole night."

He had a point, although Hermione didn't mention that Harry had graciously offered to stay the night with Rose and Hugo if she and Draco "took their time." She could've died then and there for both his generosity and the double entendre, but she didn't, choosing to ignore it and promising herself to be home by a proper hour. Anything to avoid a goofy expression on his face, not to mention any awkwardness with Scorpius or  _his mother._  It was Friday and Astoria would be bringing him later that night.

Hermione followed Draco into one of the many rooms she had yet to enter despite coming to his house often in these past few months. Her brows rose high on her head once they were inside and her hands immediately gravitated to her hips.

"A billiards table," Hermione stated the obvious as she closed the door behind her. "What better to have in your home to scream 'recently divorced male.'"

"Ah, ah, I'm not divorced yet," Draco said as he grabbed two billiards sticks from off of the right wall. "In three months  _then_  I'll be a free man." He handed one of the sticks over for her to take, but Hermione simply stood idly by. "What?"

"I don't know the first thing about playing billiards."

"You've never heard of the game before?"

"Well, no, I've  _heard_  of it, I've just never played."

Draco smirked and set one billiards stick to lean against the table. "How does it feel?"

Hermione frowned. "How does  _what_  feel?"

"Not knowing everything."

"Oh, for Merlin's sake," the brunette huffed. "A person displays a certain set of knowledgeable skills and she's a Know-It-All. Ridiculous… Just show me how to play."

"If you wish," Draco grinned. The stick he held in his hand he reached out for Hermione to take. Hesitant still, but Hermione took it just the same and walked over to the short end of the table as he pulled out a rectangle from somewhere and began piling the balls into it. "There are different ways to play, but the easiest is just seeing who gets the most in to any of these holes," he pointed to the two at the short end she was standing at, the two on the other side, and the two in the middle of both long edges. "Regardless, it's more than just about knowing the rules. You do need a bit of skill. Like holding the billiards stick to shoot properly."

Hermione watched as Draco took the rectangle off of the gathered balls which left them in the perfect shape. A white ball hadn't been included, and he set that in the middle on the table at a reasonable distance between the balls and the edge of the table.

Hermione had already been at the short edge of the table, intrigued by the setup as she was with anything she was new to. However, she had become more interested in (and paralyzed by really) when Draco walked up behind her. She felt warm all over and she knew good and well that it wasn't just because he was a significant source of body heat.

Draco had reached for her hand with the billiards stick in it, but paused. "If I may?"

He was  _much_  closer than it felt. His voice sounded deep and loud in her ear and she hoped that her swallow couldn't reach his hearing.

"Yes."

With one hand he cupped hers holding the stick. With his other hand he slid it down her free hand's wrist until he covered it. It was that hand he placed gently on the table.

"You'll want to slide this," he gestured to the stick with his chin, "between your fingers to hit the cue ball."

"Alright," Hermione raised the billiards stick and attempted to aim, fully appreciative, not to mention weak-willed, when Draco used his hand that was still over hers on the table to reposition her fingers and the stick accordingly.

"That goes there. Don't hold too tightly. And you draw it back as far as you need to." Draco's right hand had moved to her arm just above her elbow.

He was even closer now. Was there even any space between them? All Hermione knew was that his body was against her back and the side of his face only centimeters away from hers as he spoke. She was going to melt into a puddle if he didn't move (not that she wanted him to). And so when he actually did and told her to shoot, Hermione did as he said and watched the cue ball hit the neatly racked balls and all of them go flying.

Draco grinned. "Nice shot for someone who's never played before."

"Thank you," Hermione beamed. "Although, I must admit that if this is all billiards is then I don't quite see the appeal."

"I suppose so. It's more for relaxation sake, to be honest. At least for me." Draco picked up the billiards stick he had set against the table earlier and went to the opposite side of Hermione where the cue ball had slowed to a halt. "Of course, if either of us had a wild side I'd suggest strip billiards."

" _Excuse me?_ "

Draco laughed at the widening of her eyes, as well as the clear thought processes it was obvious that she was going through. "That would certainly liven things up, I imagine? But since neither of us are that adventurous, how about a game of twenty questions? We could ask each other something on our turns."

"Now who's trying to get to know who better?" Hermione teased, recalling when Draco had once taunted her with such words. Clearly he had remembered and inclined his head in agreement.

"Something like that. So, my turn, my question. When and how exactly did you become such good friends with the Minister of Magic?"

"What makes you think that I'm good friends with the Minister?" She asked, watching as the cue ball hit a blue one and the latter going into a hole.

"That day when I first came to your office last year?" Draco reminded as he lined up for another shot. "I had barged in on you two speaking."

"Oh, I'd almost forgotten about that. Hey, isn't it mine turn?"

"I got one in so that gives me another go. The answer to my question, please?"

"Kingsley fought in the war with us," Hermione finally answered. Draco's second shot missed and now it was finally her turn. "That said, I know him on a personal level."

"Fair enough. Second question: Why the Department of Magical Welfare?"

"Easy answer: I believe in fairness for everyone whether it be muggleborns or house elves. I wanted to find a way to contribute even after the wizarding world had gotten back on its feet. This was a good way."

"If I had known that's what you'd been up to I might have reined in my pride and asked for your help," Draco grimly smiled. Hermione felt her heart ache for him. There went yet another thing that often made him sullen.

It was her turn now, and she balanced the stick the way he told her to, but she wasn't concentrating. His smile didn't reach his eyes and it bothered her. "Was life really that hard for you here that you had to leave?"

"Well, no one stoned me," he joked poorly as he watched Hermione take her turn. It was a crappy shot and the cue ball missed the one she was aiming for and ended up right in a corner pocket. "Despite that, subtle cruelties can be just as bad." He walked behind her to grab the cue ball from the right corner and place it where he wanted it. Draco glanced at her once, finding her sympathetic face present, before lining up for his next shot. "If I had come to you…would you have helped me?"

Good question. If Hermione had known him as she knew him now then yes, no doubt about it. But ten years and more ago?

"I wouldn't have wanted to," she said honestly, "but I would have anyway. Everyone deserves a fair shot in life.  _Everyone._ "

Hermione's response had distracted Draco enough that he missed his shot terribly. Instead of focusing on that, he was more concerned with the witch who has far too kind for her own good.

"Your turn."

Her turn, yes, but Hermione didn't move. Instead she continued on with their game of twenty questions and set her billiards stick to lean against the table.

"When I first met Scorpius in the pet shop he had said that you had a picture of me. A little while ago I had Scorpius show it to me. Sorry," she added with a touch of guilt at his cocked brow. "It was a newspaper clipping of Harry, Ron, and me. I guess my question is…why do you have it?"

Draco took a deep breath and set aside his billiards stick like she had. With his hands on the table's edge, he breathed deeply and replied, "I left England because it was torturous for me. That photograph was actually the reason why I did. I was just...so amazed at how happy you all could be after what you went through. I kept it to remind myself that if you could do it then so could I."

"And were you?" Hermione tentatively asked. "Able to do it, I mean."

"When I had my son, yes," Draco smiled brightly. "And also…when I met you."

If there was a quicker way to accelerate Hermione's heart rate, she wouldn't have believed it. She stood there, playing with the hems of her sleeves with the utter incapability to look him in the face. Why? Because she could feel him. The intensity of his stare. She hadn't felt such a scrutiny since Draco had carried her to the guest bedroom. It had been unexpected and something… Something she didn't know that she wanted or needed.

"I was awake," Hermione found herself saying. She instantly regretted saying it out loud, but Draco's brows were furrowed at her comment and there was no coming back from it now. "That day when you carried me to my room here. I… I was awake."

"Oh," was all that Draco could say. He remembered that day, specifically that moment. It was in that instance he knew his feelings towards the brunette had changed. "Well," he said sheepishly, running a hand at the back of his head. "Don't I feel embarrassed."

"No, you shouldn't." Her words had come out quickly because that was the  _last_  thing she wanted Draco to feel, especially towards her. And accompanied with her words came quick steps so that she was on the same side of the billiards table as him, not more than one foot away. She was busily playing with her hems again. A nervous gesture of hers, and it didn't help that she couldn't get her next statement out.

Draco could see it, her nervousness. It made  _him_  nervous because he wanted to think that the reason why she was anxious was the same reason why  _he_ was. And with every second of incoherent babbling that came from the delicate witch before him he drew a step closer.

"You shouldn't feel embarrassed because I… When you had… I…" Hermione closed her eyes briefly and rubbed her right thumb into her temple. That's when she felt it. Draco's fingers on her cheek just like before.

"If I told you that I liked you as more than just a friend…what would you say?" Draco boldly asked, although on the inside he felt sick to his stomach.

Hermione still had her eyes closed as he spoke, but they were open now, and she automatically slipped her hand over his.

"I'd say that you just admitted to something I've wanted to say for the past two months."

Two months?  _Two months?_ Had the signs that Draco had been looking for really been there all that time? Had he really been that rubbish at seeing them? Or maybe he had simply discounted them as too good to be true? Regardless, to hear Hermione say it was music to his ears. He wanted nothing more than to pull her into his arms and never let her go, but he paused as he remembered one thing: she was a widow, and she needed to be eased, for both her sake and his own.

"Would you push me away if I tried to kiss you?"

There it was: the dilemma. Draco analyzed everything. How hard she had suddenly gripped the hand still on her cheek. How tense she was, period. He could imagine the thoughts running rampant through her mind, yet he was terrified to know what they were.

"I… I don't know."

Draco swallowed. "Can I try anyway?"

The audacity. The pure and utter audacity of this man, and Hermione couldn't help but smile because of it. And with the smile came a nod. And with that nod the small gap between them closed as Draco's hand that had been on her cheek slid it's way too the back of her neck, and the other around her waist. She couldn't help but compare what Ron would do instead for he had been the only man to hold her this close, to make her feel pleasant insanity, for over ten years.

But as Draco's lips touched hers the comparison broke. It was a swift touch, a quick testing of the waters, but it had captured her just the same. He pulled away, but barely, letting his mouth hover over hers as though asking for permission.

Hermione closed the space and kissed him, and thank Merlin that she did. Draco may have started it, but he wanted her to finish it. For her to give the okay that this was what she wanted. And he knew, at least in this moment, that it was. He felt her arms wrap around his neck and draw him in closer than he was already. Slow, but meaningful, the kiss deepened with every passing second until they broke apart to breathe.

And even then they relished in the intimacy. Draco kissed her forehead. He kissed both cheeks. He kissed her nose too, and Hermione laughed before bringing his lips down to hers again and then nuzzling her face into his neck.

"This changes things doesn't it?" Hermione said after a while.

"Yes, but I want to let  _you_  decide how that changes. I know where I stand. You, on the other hand…" Draco sighed. "You're the wild card here."

Hermione bit her lower lip and looked up at him. "And...where do you stand, exactly?"

Draco smiled. "I asked to kiss you, didn't I?"

She felt her cheeks flush instantly and she nodded. And as the universe would have it, she managed to catch sight of a calendar hanging on the back wall of the room. May 10th. Instead of giving Ron his flowers, she was here falling for someone new.

"I don't cry anymore," Hermione said suddenly. "I'm still sad, but I… I'm not the actively grieving widow I was when we first met again. You helped me with that. You reminded me of how Ron used to make me feel, but that's the problem," she frowned. "I don't want that. I want to be with you for  _you_  and not for anything or for anyone else."

Hermione's heart was erratic at the end of her words. Even more so when Draco said nothing, but just stared at her intently.

It was agonizing.

"Aren't you going to say something?"

That seemed to have jolted his awareness, and he leaned his forehead on hers. "All I heard was that you want to be with me."

Hermione laughed. "That  _would_  be the only thing you heard."

Draco smirked. "Naturally." He strengthened the hold he had around her before adding, "I don't want to make you forget your husband, Granger. I don't want to replace him either. I just want you and whatever part of you you'll let me have."

There wasn't enough words to describe how much weight and guilt was lifted off of Hermione's shoulders from what he said. The fact that he wanted to be with her, that he could be so patient, and so understanding… It made her need and want him in her life more than he could possibly comprehend.

And so Hermione nodded, taking the plunge in this new adventure with a man she was happy to say that she could no longer call her "friend."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HERMIONE TOOK THE PLUNGE! LOL. When re-reading this chapter I instantly thought of the movie Hitch with Will Smith and Kevin James. There's a scene where Will is trying to give him pointers on a goodnight kiss by pretending to be his date for the scenario. He said this, "You go 90 and then I go 10. You don't go the whole hundred!" In essence, let her come to you, and I think Draco did that very well :).
> 
> -WP


	16. "D" for Extravagant

_May 12th, 2013_

"About time," Theo teased. Draco rolled his eyes. For the first time since March, Theo had finally come to his house. Draco had been in too euphoric of a mood and distracted by Scorpius to tell him before, but he did so today. Theo had been with Franny at the time but dropped everything for this moment. So dramatic...

"I thought you were going to pine over her from afar forever," Theo continued.

"I wasn't  _pining,_ " Draco countered with a blush to his cheeks.

"Sure, sure. All I know is that if she makes you this giddy already I can't wait to see what you're like a few months down the line."

"A few months down the line…" Draco repeated as he shook his head. "I can't even think that far ahead. I'm just amazed that we got over step one."

"How about step two?" Theo questioned. "Did you tell Scorpius that you're dating his friends' mum?"

"Today before he left and with clear instructions  _not_  to tell his mother. I also didn't mention the word 'date.' Aside from the fact that I'm still technically married, we're going to move slow and see how it goes."

Theo nodded. "Fair enough. How did Scorpius take it then?"

"It went far better than I expected. He's actually excited about it."

"Not surprised. He's been seeing his mother date for ages. He's not put off with the idea of his folks with other people."

"That's true, I suppose. What does that say for Granger's kids, though?"

"When is she telling them?"

Draco frowned. "Today."

"Ah," Theo grinned. "So that's why you're drinking hard liquor like you're dying of thirst."

Draco felt his cheeks redden yet again. His eyes gravitated to his hands that were cupping a short glass of Dragon's Fire Firewhiskey. He had already had a glass before Theo showed up.

"If her kids don't approve she's going to back out."

"Did she say that?"

"No, but-"

"Then don't assume what she will or won't do, Draco. It'll only stress you out."

Draco huffed. "Dating is stressful, period."

Theo laughed. "Wait until you have to buy her a gift. It raises the blood pressure a lot faster when the woman in question becomes your girlfriend."

* * *

When Hermione had arrived home Friday night and Harry saw the goofy, glowy expression on her face, he had known what had happened. Only one other man had been able to make her look like that and it was a big relief to Harry knowing that someone else had again. The next morning Ginny had Flooed over with the kids for a playdate which in all honesty had been a date for the adults. Both she and Hermione were secluded to the living room to discuss every intimate detail so that the redhead could squeal and gush at all the appropriate moments.

And now it was Sunday. Friday night had been a joy. Saturday had been spent basking in said joy. Today was a day for reflection and contemplation. Hermione and Draco had spent Saturday night well into Sunday morning Floo Calling each other. It had resulted in sore knees, bad backs, and a crick in the neck for Draco but he had assured her that it had been worth it. They had talked about what they wanted. More specifically what  _she_  wanted. It was agreed upon to go slow and to skip out on the labels for now, especially because Draco's divorce had yet to be finalized. They had also discussed what and how they would tell the children.

Judging from the time of day, Scorpius had probably already been picked up by his mother which meant that Draco had already told him. Now it was Hermione's turn and she was absolutely dreading it. She was terrified about what Rose and Hugo would say. Would they be happy for her? Would they think it wrong? Would they object solely because they didn't want their mum to date, or just hate the idea that it's their friend's father she fancies?

Regardless of her fears, Hermione had to push through. It would be their bedtimes soon and she needed to get this over with and refused to push this off until tomorrow. And so, she walked into her bedroom and found her little ones on either side of her bed. Just for tonight she had told them that it would be okay and she couldn't help but smile at seeing them so snuggled up.

"We saved you the middle!" Hugo said ecstatically. Hermione laughed.

"Why, thank you." She had already been dressed for bed and so she crawled onto it from the middle, carefully making sure not to damage her knees on the block spines of several children's books that had been brought into her bed as well. "Now, you know that I can't read  _all_  of these before your bedtime."

"You can if you read fast," Rose grinned. Her daughter had a point and Hermione shook her head in amusement. She gathered the five books that had been placed in the middle and settled them onto her lap once she had gone under the covers. She looked at Rose on her right, Hugo on her left, and then sighed to release the bubble of tension in her chest.

"Before I start reading, I wanted to… Well, I wanted to talk to you about something."

Rose gasped and her face fell. "Did someone die?"

 _Hermione_  wanted to die. Her face also bore an expression of horror as she said, "No, no, of course not! Why would you ask that?"

"That's what you said when daddy passed away," Rose replied sadly. Now Hermione was a wreck. She sighed and used her right arm to pull her daughter close and her other arm to do the same with Hugo.

"No one died, and I'm sorry to have made you think that."

"Okay, good." Rose snuggled into her mother as she continued, "What did you want to talk about?"

"It's um… It's about Scorpius' dad. You both like Mr. Malfoy, don't you?"

"Yeah!" Hugo answered enthusiastically. "He's really nice and he takes us to the  _coolest_  places!"

Hermione grinned. "I'm glad that you him." She turned her head and nudged her daughter. "And you, Rose? What do you think?"

"There's nothing not to like," she smiled. "He's nice just like Hugo said."

"Good, that's good. I wanted to ask that because Mr. Malfoy and I… We like each other, and we were hoping to see more of each other because of it."

Rose sat up. "Like dating?"

At that word Hugo also sat up and now Hermione was beginning to feel like this conversation was going to go right downhill.

"No, not exactly," Hermione said. "It's more of a phase  _before_  dating. If it goes well, then yes, we'll actually date."

Hugo frowned and anxiously played with his fingers. "If you do the date thing, does that mean you don't love dad anymore?"

What a loaded question. A  _painful_ question. It was something Hermione had been struggling with for weeks, and she decided to tell her son exactly what she had told herself.

"I will  _always_  love your father, Hugo. Nothing and no one will ever change that. I just...happen to like Mr. Malfoy too."

"Are you and Mr. Malfoy going to get married?" Hugo suddenly asked. Rose laughed.

"Of course not!" Rose exclaimed. She then gave a side-eye to her mother and added, "You're not, right?"

"No, we're not," Hermione confirmed with a grin. "There are  _a lot_  of steps before that would even be a possibility. All we want to do is just see each other more, and I wanted to tell you, hoping that you wouldn't hate me for it. You don't, do you?"

"...Daddy's still number one?" Rose asked tentatively.

"Daddy will always be number one."

"Then okay. Just no real dating without telling us first."

"I can certainly do that. How about you, Hugo?"

"Can Scorpius come over when you and his dad go on your dates before real dates?"

Hermione couldn't help her hard burst of laughter. "Yes. We can throw in a couple joint family pre-date night outings too, if that's alright with you?"

"Deal," Hugo happily replied before hugging his mother. Rose joined in and Hermione gave the biggest sigh of relief as she held her children close, over the moon that they didn't hate her.

* * *

_May 31st, 2013_

Draco had his face set up in a frown. Rose, on the other hand, was grinning from ear to ear.

"While I'm terribly proud, my pride just got a wild kick to the chest at getting beaten by a child who just turned seven in wizard's chess," Draco mused bitterly. Rose laughed and began resetting the board.

"I've had plenty of practice," Rose said happily. "Do you think I'll do well in my tournament this year?"

"Keep playing like you have and you'll win just like before," he smiled with an encouraging nod. Rose was breaking beaming at the compliment before she suddenly gasped in the direction of the stairs.

"Oh, mum, you look so pretty!"

Draco immediately turned and, yes, Hermione did look pretty. The color of the night was red. It wasn't particularly bright, but rather a deep red that complemented her skin well. Unlike other dresses he'd seen her in before, this one was form-fitting. And what a wonderful form it was…

"Thank you, Rose," Hermione smiled.

She walked over to Draco who had stood when he saw her coming down the stairs. Ever aware that there was still a child nearby, all he did was reach for her hand and gentlemanly kissed the break of it.

He did, however, manage to whisper, "It's a miracle that you're able to move in that dress."

Hermione laughed. "Normally, I'd call you cheeky, but you're right. At least I managed to get my wand on me."

Draco's eyes widened at that as they roamed all of over her. " _You did?_ "

Hermione didn't reply, but rather blushed under his scrutinizing stare. They were then disrupted when the the door to the kitchen burst open and out came Hugo and Scorpius, dressed in their pajamas, followed by George with a tray full of food.

"The tricks and treats are here, kiddos!" George said with glee. "Emphasis on the 'tricks.'"

Draco rolled his head back in (mock?) despair as Hermione embarrassingly put a hand on her cheek.

"I'd like to come back to find my son in one piece, if you don't mind," Draco told him. George grinned wildly as he wiggled his way between the couple in order to set the tray down on the coffee table.

"He'll be in perfect condition when you guys get back," George promised, "if not a little altered."

Draco's panic appeared tenfold, but Hermione quickly assured him that Scorpius would be fine. They bid their farewells and she ushered him out the front door. Even then Draco was still trying to look through the window at what was happening indoors.

"I can't believe that I let you talk me into having him babysit."

Hermione laughed. "Yes, well, my father always said that women have a way of making men do the craziest things."

"Your father's right," Draco chuckled. He sighed and turned to Hermione with his hand outstretched. "Ready to go?"

"To this mysterious place we could only go to after eleven p.m.?" Hermione said with a cocked brow. "More than ready in that case."

A simple hand-hold was all that was necessary for apparation, but for the past three weeks they did more than necessary. It was a routine now. Draco would offer his hand, and Hermione would take it. He'd draw her in close, putting her hand on his shoulder. She'd raise her other hand, wrapping it around his neck, and meeting the one that was already there. Draco's own hands would do the same around her waist, and the space between them would become non-existent. Only then would they disapparate.

It had been unusually warm when they left, but now Hermione felt a chill in the air. She raised her head from Draco's chest (for it was always buried there when they apparated) and blinked repeatedly at the  _massive_  monument and tourist attraction they were standing next to.

"The Eiffel Tower…" she breathed. "You took me to the Eiffel Tower? Damn it, Malfoy. What did I tell you about being this extravagant?"

"That was about gifts," Draco reminded. He was all smiles and positively giddy. "This is a pre-date, not a gift."

"Merlin help me when these turn into normal dates then."

"You mean  _me._  It takes energy to be this creative."

Hermione laughed and Draco grinned as he took her hand and began leading her closer to the monument as well as to a gentleman she hadn't realized had been there.

"Draco!" He greeted enthusiastically. "Ça va bien?"

"Très bien," Draco replied. He then looked towards Hermione and added, "Je te présente...ma copine, Hermione."

"Wonderful," the man said as he approached her and gave her a traditional French greeting. "Draco told me that you were beautiful, but 'is words were an understatement."

Draco felt himself flush. "Wonderful way to put me on the spot, Guillaume."

"Bien sûr," Guillaume chuckled. "Come, let's get you two to the top."

"The top?" Hermione questioned. Guillaume let out a hearty and joyful laugh as he urged the pair to follow him towards the center of the tower.

"Of course!" He answered her. "It is the best way to see Paris!"

Hermione have a side glance at Draco who wasn't trying very hard not to look smug. Regardless, she certainly had to give him points for his aforementioned creativity. Her hand was in his again as they finally reached the center. She wondered exactly how they were going to make it "to the top," considering visiting hours were over, but once Guillaume had taken out his wand and had given his explanation, she understood.

"This wizard access was created decades ago to appease the wealthy 'oo were tired of the muggle tourists. Un groupe des cons geignards si tu me demandes…"

" _Guillaume,_ " Draco chided.

"Quoi?" He asked before remembering that he was in the presence of a lady. "Oh, apologies for the language. Enfin, we 'ave this for magical use. Good to bring in revenue to the wizarding world too. Free for you tonight, naturellement."

A lift suddenly appeared out of nowhere. The doors opened and Guillaume motioned with his hands that they could head inside.

"After you," he gestured to the pair. Draco allowed Hermione to go ahead of him and they both entered the lift that Hermione quickly realized had see-through walls from the inside.

"Oh my…"

"I probably should have asked if you were afraid of heights," Draco said sheepishly. "Are you?"

"Not particularly, although this lift is testing that greatly," Hermione admitted. Draco held in his laugh and just pulled her in close him as Guillaume started the lift. It wasn't a very fast ride, designed that way so people could take in the sights as it climbed higher up the monument. Hermione only peeked once or twice, but otherwise kept her eyes closed and only acknowledged her surroundings until the lift stopped. Her fright was gone then and replaced with complete fascination as she walked out onto the platform.

"Malfoy, it's amazing up here."

"I thought you might like it," Draco smiled. He stuffed his hands into his pockets and also left the lift follow her. "I spent a great deal of my early time in France up here. It was a good place to think."

Hermione continued to stare out at the landscape. The open land. The city. The night sky and the stars.

"I don't know how you did it," Hermione said after a while. "I don't think I could've just picked myself up and moved somewhere I knew nothing about." She side glanced at him before asking, "Weren't you scared?"

"England scared me," he answered with a nonchalant shrug. "I would've lived in a desert at that point. Anywhere where people didn't judge me as soon as they saw me. It was...nice to disappear like that."

"I can imagine. I've thought about disappearing plenty of times. A lot less these past few months, though," she added as she looked at him. He was unable to hide his blush. "Did you keep in contact with anyone when you left? Aside from Theo, that is. It's pretty obvious that you two kept up pretty well."

"You would think so, but no," Draco replied as he kicked invisible rocks. "I walked away from everyone. Everyone and everything that reminded me of the chaos that was the last few years of my life. It wasn't until that article of you and your friends that I started to heal a little. Still took almost a full year to reach out to Theo. A little longer to reach out to others. Out of everyone I still talk to Theo comes out on top."

"And now that you've been back for almost a year? Does England still scare you?"

Draco smiled. "A lot less these past few months."

Now it was Hermione's turn to blush. He thought the color of her cheeks looked far better on her rather than him and kept his focus on her longer than necessary. He knew that she'd be embarrassed by the attention and that she would redden more. She did, and failed miserably in trying to hide her face with her hair.

Draco laughed and raised his hand to push her hair behind her ear. "You don't have to hide from me. Ever."

Hermione leaned her head into his hand as she let his words sink in. He was right. She didn't have to hide from him. She couldn't even if she wanted to. In these past few months he had somehow figured her out. It was incredible really.  _He_  was incredible.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sometimes all you need is fluff! Also, I love George. I think I need to start using him more in my stories lol. As for the minor French things: The usual hey, how are you greetings (with Draco introducing Hermione to Guillaume as his "girlfriend" *smirk*). And Guillaume calling the wealthy a bunch of whiny bastards lol.
> 
> -WP


	17. Pacemaker

Draco and Hermione spent just over an hour at the Eiffel Tower, and with George watching the kids for the night, the couple went back to Draco's house. Hermione's things had already been Flooed over and so she dressed for bed. She wouldn't be sleeping just yet since Draco had prepared a late night meal for them. He had finished dressing ages ago, she knew, because she could hear him in the kitchen. And although it hadn't taken very long for her to slip on a pair of pyjama pants and an undershirt, Hermione still stalled.

She liked Draco. She could boldly admit that now. She liked hugging him. Kissing him. The gentle touches he gave her like the passing of his fingers along her arm or back. No, they hadn't officially labeled themselves, and no, they weren't calling their outings "dates" when they knew good and well they were.

With all of that in mind, Hermione kept going in between whether things were moving too fast or not. This conflict that she had was both exciting and terrifying. Exciting because her struggles had less to do with Ron and more to do with dating, and terrifying because she had absolutely no clue what she was doing. They were supposed to be going slow, but what did that mean exactly? What was the invisible line? Had they crossed it by having her spend the night? Was it as catastrophic as the little voice in the back of her mind telling her that it was? Should she just stuff a sock in her subconscious' mouth and roll with it? And what about other aspects of this dating, not yet boyfriend-girlfriend-but-technically-yes situation that was plaguing her mind as well, especially as Draco's birthday loomed closer?

Hermione took a deep breath, shook off her nerves, and finally headed downstairs. When she made it to the kitchen she instantly began laughing. There was a wide array of food on the table. Pasta, bread, chicken, mixed vegetables, a small cake, and wine.

"This is a  _light_  meal to you?" Hermione chuckled.

Draco cleared his throat as he set down the utensils in their proper place on the table. "I might have overdone it a little."

"I can't very well be surprised. Subtlety isn't in your nature."

"That is true," he replied with an anxious smile. "Shall we sit?"

"Of course," Hermione said as Draco pulled out her seat for her. The food began portioning itself out when she sat down and they began eating once Draco had taken his own seat.

"How is it?" He asked, watching as she took a bite of the chicken first. She wasn't gagging, so that was a good sign.

"Excellent," Hermione genuinely replied. "Hired someone like last time, did you?"

"Not this time," he answered proudly. "This I made on my own."

"Did you?" Her surprise was clearly evident, but so was pride. "You've excelled so well!"

"When your only day job is contract work you fill your time with hobbies," Draco shrugged lazily, although clearly happy for the compliment. "Throw in the fact that I've been trying to impress you and there goes the reason why I practiced a lot."

Hermione felt her face heat up and compensated by eating. Draco didn't miss the action, but he decided to be nice and not bring it to her attention. They ate for a minute or two before Hermione sighed and set down her fork.

"I have no idea what to get you for your birthday."

It was sudden, her outburst, and Draco tilted his head at her as he swallowed.

"That's a problem?" He genuinely asked her. Hermione sighed deeply and nodded.

"Yes. You go above and beyond in everything that you do for me, even  _before_  that we admitted we liked each other. I just don't know what to do in return."

Draco was smiling more than his face could allow. He set his utensils down, cupped his hands on his cheeks, and stared at her.

"Granger," he purred sweetly. "I thought we agreed that subtlety wasn't in my nature."

"Regardless," she brooded. "I just don't want things to seem one-sided."

"It could never feel one-sided. Seeing you happy about what I do for you is all I could ever ask for."

"Is that what you want then? For me to just be happy?"

"Not just happy," Draco corrected, removing his hands from his face and setting them on the table. "Happy  _with me._ "

Hermione's face softened enough to melt. Out of everything he could've asked from her, all he wanted was her happiness and for him to be the cause. "Genuine" wasn't enough to describe him. "Sweet" was too lazy of a term. Now more than ever she felt inadequate because the only thing she could think to say was,

"I'm already happy with you."

The steady progression of Draco's facial expression, his entire body really, was an interesting thing to watch. His back straightened for starters. His eyes widened ever so slightly as he swallowed. His lips tightened before they parted and his hands moved to his lap. Hermione tried not to be startled when a loud screech assaulted her ears as Draco pushed his chair out. He had gotten up from his seat, walked to the other side of the table to hers, and paused for the briefest of moments. It was enough for Hermione to turn in her chair to face him and she was delightedly met with his lips when he bent over to kiss her. The warmth of his hands on the sides of her face was nothing compared to what flowed through her. That fuzzy feeling in her limbs, stomach, heart, and head… She felt cared for by this man.  _Loved_  by this man, although she would rightly assess that it was too soon for such feelings. But a foundation was still there.

Draco pulled away slowly, keeping his face close to hers, allowing him to see himself in her deeply dilated eyes.

"Thank you for the birthday present."

Amused, Hermione gently laughed, sliding her hands over his that still cupped her face. "My admission doesn't count, Malfoy."

"Oh, alright, fine." Draco kissed her on the forehead and chose to kneel in front of her instead of stand. "Take me somewhere then."

"Really?"

"Why not? Physical gifts have always been a waste on me. Being financially well off meant that any gift someone could give me paled considerably in what I could get myself," he added with a touch of smugness. "Honestly, the best gift these days is time spent with you and your family. And my son, of course."

"Of course," Hermione echoed fondly. She sighed before relenting to one of the many battles she fought internally as of late. "Then I suppose my idea I'd been struggling to propose would be okay, although perhaps still a bit inappropriate."

Draco cocked a brow and grinned before standing and reaching out his hand to her. "Well, now I'm intrigued as to what you think is inappropriate."

Hermione laughed and gave him her hand. They were hardly finished with their late night dinner, but they walked away from the kitchen anyway and settled themselves onto the living room couch.

"It's nothing that you're thinking of, I'm sure," she said a bit embarrassingly. "Do you remember that portkey pass you gave me for Christmas? Well, Rose and Hugo are going to be at camp for the next two weeks, so I'll have time now to go. Maybe you might want to go with me?"

Draco's face lit up immediately as his smile broadened. "I would love to go. I can make hotel arrangements as early as tomorrow," he added excitedly. "Humor me for a moment, though. Why did you think such a request was inappropriate?"

"Pending divorce," Hermione admitted. "I wouldn't want to do anything that would ruin that."

"Oh," Draco mused. "Yes, I can see the potential problem. If Astoria got wind of this, anything about us really, it could derail our divorce process considerably."

Hermione frowned and let her gaze fall to her lap as she nervously played with her cuticles. "Right. Maybe it's not a good idea then-"

"I still want to go," he quickly interrupted. Draco placed a finger under her chin to coax her to look at him. "And we  _will_  go. It's only a two-day trip, and from the brochure's description it's in a remote enough location so that we're not splattered all over the next morning's Daily Prophet. Sound good?"

Hermione bit her bottom lip. "Alright. So long as you're okay with it."

Draco regarded her intently. Her words said the matter was finished, however her voice and body language said otherwise. Did she realize just how readable she was? Or maybe he had simply spent so much time observing her that everything she did immediately caught his eye. Whatever it was, it warranted his attention.

"Okay, Granger," he delicately prodded, nudging her shoulder in the process. "What else is on your mind?"

Hermione blinked in surprise. "What makes you think there's something else?"

"Easy. Unknown to yourself you have several tells. One of them is biting your lip."

Her instinct right then was to do just that and she rolled her eyes at it, succumbing to the fact that this man knew her a little too well. Or she was just blatantly obvious.

"Okay… So, there  _might_  have been another reason why I was hesitant on the idea of asking you to come with me." Hermione took a deep breath, dreading her next words because it sounded completely silly as each syllable left her mouth. "This trip… Technically speaking, it would be us going away together. I just wasn't sure if it was too soon or if you'd feel that way."

Draco nodded as she spoke. He also refrained from showing any amusement at her expense. He did verbally express it, however.

"You think too much, you know that?"

Hermione furrowed her brow a moment before crossing her arms over her chest. "Malfoy! These are real concerns of mine!"

"I know that." Draco pried her arms apart and held her hands. "And I want you to remember that you're stressing over a situation that you have  _total_  control over. We agreed to go slow because it's what you wanted. If that includes a two-day trip outside of England then so be it. You're allowed to propose what you want and not be afraid of what I'm going to say. Although, if it makes you feel better, odds are I'll always say yes," he added happily.

Hermione couldn't help but smile. Her hands were being gently squeezed for assurance and she found her head moving up and down in acquiescence.

"I want us to go to The Wigglesworth Magical Museum together," Hermione said with renewed strength. "I do have some ground rules for when we go, however."

Draco laughed. "Of course you would. And they are?"

"Separate bedrooms."

"Done. What else?"

"That's all."

"Seriously?" Draco questioned. Hermione thought for a moment before nodding and Draco began grinning like a schoolboy. "Your lack of limitations around me are encouraging, Granger. Thank you."

"Oh, shut up," Hermione playfully scolded.

Draco laughed loudly then before gathering her into his arms and holding her against his chest. She wrapped her arms around him, pulling her legs up on the couch so that she could properly snuggle against him.

"I'll make arrangements in the morning, okay?"

"Okay."

Hermione was up far enough on his chest so that Draco could lean his cheek on her head. They stayed like that for Merlin knew how long, in peaceful silence, before eventually falling asleep.

* * *

Draco woke up well before Hermione the next morning. Not that he was complaining about it. She was in his arms and it made for a pleasant way to start a new day. When she finally woke up they both had breakfast, showered, dressed, and headed back to her house. The kids were up if the ruckus in the kitchen was anything to go by. Hermione dropped her overnight bag onto an armchair and led the way into the kitchen to find the children at the table while George had pancakes flipping, eggs frying, sausages sizzling, and tea pouring (magically, of course).

"Dad!" Scorpius greeted with a wide grin and a huge wave. "Did you have fun?"

Draco had heard his son speak, but none of his words had registered. He was more focused on the top of his head.

"Your hair is pink. Weasley," Draco addressed. "Why is my son's hair pink?"

"What?" George turned around, his wand in hand, and realized what Draco was talking about. "Ah, yes, about that… Seems like the antidote to my shrinking serum doesn't agree well with blonds."

"You  _shrank_  my son last night?!"

"Not that small! Not lower than one foot, I swear."

Hermione's mouth dropped and she immediately began checking both of her children. "George!"

"Oh, come on, Hermione. You're used to me experimenting on your kids by now."

"For the love of Merlin," Hermione groaned. "You're lucky that you're my favorite brother-in-law.

"Why thank you," George beamed. "And don't worry about little Scorpius, Malfoy," he added to the man who was using every spell he could think of to turn his son's hair back to blond. "The side-effect should wear off by the end of the day. Tomorrow the latest."

"It'd better," Draco frowned as he finally put his wand away. "The last thing I need is his mother shouting at me."

"Nope, wouldn't want that," George chuckled. He gave Draco and Hermione a good look-over before adding on, "There are very few times where a woman screaming is a good thing, as I'm sure you're well aware."

" _George, I'm going to kill you,_ " Hermione growled out. George wasn't fazed and he even laughed as he continued making breakfast.

There was enough food so that all three adults could eat too, and so they all sat down and let George's magic parcel everything out. He was the last to sit, and the redhead sat at the head of the table opposite Hermione and observed the scene as he gently stirred his tea. Draco sat next to her and they were (dare he think it?) cute. It wasn't a nauseating kind either. She talked and he listened, an enamoured expression written all over his face while Hermione was like an anxious little preteen. As for the kids, obviously they loved their respective parent, but they also were fond of each other's too. The whole picture was just… Well, it was picture-perfect.

"I'll get Rose and Hugo together and we'll pass by in about an hour or two," Hermione said to Draco after breakfast was over. "Is that okay?"

"Completely. That'll give me a few more tries with his hair," he grumbled with a frown. Hermione laughed and tiptoed briefly so that she could kiss him on the cheek.

"It's called a Glamour Charm, Malfoy. Use it."

"Yeah, yeah," Draco rolled his eyes. He made sure none of the kids were looking before he kissed her on the lips and told Scorpius that they were leaving.

George had been in the kitchen testing out his Eavesdropping Earplants (an upgrade to his and Fred's Extendable Ears) as he washed up the dishes, and he hummed to himself while listening in on his sister-in-law's mushy goodbye to the blond. She told his niece and nephew to go grab a shower and get dressed because they were heading to the zoo with "Mr. Malfoy" and Scorpius. George couldn't help but snort in hysterics when he heard Hugo ask his mum if they could consider this outing as a "group pre-date" and his mother replying, "If you'd like to, then yes." By the time he heard her heading back to the kitchen he turned off the Earplants, wiped his hands on a nearby towel, and turned away from the sink to face her with one of his wry, mischievous grins. Hermione was immediately on the alert.

"What?"

"Nothing," he gently shook his head. "It's just… I could never really imagine you with anyone other than my brother. When he died I worried about you and how you would function without him. And now here you are, a dizzy little schoolgirl again. I guess what I'm trying to say is…I'm happy for you."

"I'm happy for me too," Hermione replied with a slight tear to her eye that she brushed away quickly. "It's still a bit strange, but at least I'm a little less scared."

"Don't be scared." George pushed himself off the sink's edge and walked over to embrace her in the tightest hug. He even swung side-to-side a bit. "Ron would want you to be happy without him," he whispered in her ear. "So, don't be afraid to do that, alright? Besides, the more you and Malfoy go out the more I get to babysit."

"For goodness sake," Hermione shook her head, happy tears now streaming down her face. She pulled away from him a bit and grinned. "How does Angelina put up with you?"

"Easy," George said with a proud raise of his chin. "She sends me to other people's houses to terrorize  _their_  kids."

" _Great…_  Remind me to thank her."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Off to the museum they go! Also, George...hahahaha. Some of you may have seen a snippet of that scene on Facebook. Also, anyone want to venture a guess as to why I named this chapter "pacemaker?"
> 
> -WP :)


	18. Transitions

_June 2nd, 2013_

A flyer for a kids' camp had been up on Rose and Hugo's school two months prior. They had been ecstatic over it and begged Hermione to let them go. She relented, paid for the camp, and not more than an hour ago today had dropped them off at a man-made (or wizard-made rather) lakeside where they would be staying for two weeks until the sixteenth.

As she stood in the middle of her living room Hermione made a startling discovery: she was alone. No husband. No children. No one but herself in a home that she didn't peg as obnoxiously large until now. She wished that it was Monday so that she could be at work and have something to occupy her mind with, but how long would that work? She wouldn't be there twenty-four hours a day and she would still be coming home to emptiness.

_I could always see Harry and Ginny. Or maybe George? I haven't seen my parents in a bit, perhaps…_

Hermione's thought process halted as she ran through the list of people she could see right now and she frowned. When had she become so dependent on someone else's presence? Before she could begin to contemplate the answer to that question a very familiar owl had flown through the house and dropped a letter at her feet. The owl perched himself on the back of her couch and stared at her inquisitively.

"Falcon, you're looking lovely as ever," Hermione complimented before bending over and opening the letter. "You'll have to follow me into the kitchen if you'd like a treat before you go."

Hermione turned on her heel knowing that the majestic Malfoy owl would follow her. He had come to her house so often within the past year that she sometimes felt like he was her owl too. He knew just where to land so as not to get scolded and where she kept her owl treats.

"There you go, Falcon," Hermione smiled as she fed him a couple treats with one hand and awkwardly opened the letter addressed to her with the other.

_Do you want to see what Theo's boss pays me for?_

_-Draco_

Hermione smiled broadly at the invitation and was internally grateful for its precision timing. She sent Falcon off to fly home while she trotted over to the fireplace. On the other end she had expected to be met with raucous laughter from somewhere within the home, but instead she found Draco picking up Lego blocks from the floor and Scorpius sleeping on the couch.

"He looks exhausted," Hermione observed with a fond expression. Draco stood, looked over at his son, and nodded in agreement.

"Little thing ran his old man ragged today. I was actually thankful when he passed out," Draco admitted. "But at least he had fun."

"It's all a parent can ask for. That and if your kid sleeps through the night."

"Scorpius sure won't, but he'll be with Astoria by tonight. Not sorry one bit."

Hermione laughed softly and shook her head at him. There were still quite a bit of Scorpius' toys on the floor and so she began to help. A wand would've worked better, but by now she had learned not to be surprised by his choice not to use one.

"Ready to see what I've been working on these past few months?" Draco asked when they were finished cleaning.

"I'd love to, although I can't help but wonder if you'll break some sort of confidentiality thing with Theo's company if I know about it."

"Oh, but that's the fun part. I jinxed my work room. Anyone who leaves it who's not myself or Theo won't remember it. A subtle memory loss over time that I call Creeping Amnesia."

Hermione's jaw slipped. "That's ingenious."

"Theo thought so too," Draco said sheepishly as he led Hermione to a basement door just outside of the living room. "He's talking about helping me to patent it."

"Mysterious magic, patenting spells…" Hermione playfully bumped into his shoulder on their way down the stairs. "I think I may be dating a mad scientist."

"A mad what?"

"Never mind."

When they reached the last stair Hermione's mouth fell open. Two words came to mind when she saw everything: chemistry lab. There were cauldrons of various sizes, some with a light simmer, others boiling. Ingredients were everywhere and they were in various forms: liquid, crushed, diced, minced, sliced… She noticed a knife nearby and it was heartwarming to realize that Draco chose to cut his ingredients manually rather than with his wand. It was apparent that he spent a tremendous amount of time down here. A commendable feat, if she didn't say so herself, considering that he also spent a bulk of his time with her and her kids and his son.

"How many projects are you working on?"

"Three at the moment. Two if you don't include the one I just finished. It's the one that I want to show you." Draco held out his hand to her and she was pulled along through the basement (much larger than originally anticipated) until they came across a workstation in the corner of the room. "Theo works in McGregor's health sector, you see, so that's what a lot of my research is looking at."

"You have Healer training?"

"Does reading books on magical health count?" Draco offered. Hermione's raised brow signaled a "no" and he shrugged. "I guess that's why they hired me. Throw in a good word from Theo, who does have Healer training by the way, the fact that I'd see things differently than a Healer would, and a five-hour long exam on my knowledge skillset and voila."

Draco took a moment to bend over and open the doors below the workstation's table top. When he stood up, Hermione felt her gag reflexes come into play at what was sitting in a jar in some kind of solution.

"Malfoy… That's a kidney."

"Yes, it is, and a damaged one at that," Draco replied as he took a moment to put gloves on. He took the kidney out and placed it on surgical tray. It was only then that Hermione was able to see that, yes, it was damaged and the unhealed scar was now being treated with something ice blue that Draco kept in a potion bottle. "You have such things as Skelegrow to repair broken bones, a simple spell can mend flesh, and Skelerepair can heal some organs, but not all. Kidneys are one of them that can be, well, temperamental. I've been spending my time altering Skelerepair so that it can have a more widespread effect for internal injuries. After all this time it's finally worked."

"Malfoy…" Hermione was in awe. She watched as the improved Skelerepair as it treated the kidney like band new and all she could do was shake her head in disbelief and stare at him in wonder. "This is incredible. You can really shake up the health community with this."

"That's what he said. Theo's boss, Mr. Nesby. He… He actually wants me to come onsite next month to discuss it with him and then the department."

"Really? That's great!"

Hermione's screech had pierced Draco's ears, but he wouldn't let her know that. Instead he let her fawn over him, relishing in her back-breaking hug, the feel of her hands on his cheeks, and the pecks of kisses she feathered him with. Even through all of that though, there was a dread inside that settled in Draco's chest.

"What's wrong?" She asked him, and he smiled knowing that she was one of the few people who could actually notice when he was upset.

"I don't think that the meeting will go well."

"What? Of course it will! Theo's boss wouldn't have asked you to come if he didn't think that you were doing great work."

"I'm not talking about the work." Draco sighed and urged Hermione to sit down on one of the stools near his workstation. Confused, she did as he gestured while he did the same. "There was a condition of my employment at the time that I got hired. Only Theo and Mr. Nesby would know that I was working for them."

Hermione's face pulled into a hideous frown. "They hid you."

" _Mr. Nesby_  hid me. Theo, on the other hand, was ready to quit because of it." Draco laughed uncomfortably before dying down to anxious chuckles. "I told him not to and that I'd agree to the condition."

"You shouldn't have," Hermione said curtly. "You're not a thing to be stuffed in a corner. You're a person. A human being who has feelings and who's worth something."

"You're one of the few people who think that way."

" _And?_   _You_  are in charge of your own self-worth Draco Malfoy and I refuse to let you live in a bubble that other people are putting you in. You've done that for far too long and it has to stop. So, you'll go to that meeting, head held high, not giving a single damn about what other people think of you and knock that presentation out of the park. Understood?"

Draco blinked. He couldn't tell if what he'd just heard was a pep talk or a scolding, and honestly? It didn't matter. This woman, to whom he had been a passing thought less than a year ago, was now his biggest advocate.

"So bossy," Draco shook his head. "It's one of the things that I love about you."

The words were out of his mouth faster than he had thought about them. He was frightened to look up at Hermione's face for he was sure that there would be some sort of horror residing in her features. When he had, he was half-right. Hermione was frozen. With her lips parted and eyes wide and unblinking, anyone would think that she'd been hit with  _Immobulous._

"In case you're ready to flee, you should probably make note that I said that I loved your  _bossiness._ I'm not professing my undying love for you or anything. At least not yet."

Hermione finally snapped back, her cheeks red and she bit her lips furiously. "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to do that, but just that word...and you… I blanked. Now I'm horribly embarrassed and would love to crawl into a hole if one was available."

Draco laughed. Her words had died to a mumble and now she was fidgeting on her seat and nervously wringing her hands together. He gently pried her hands apart before she broke them and shushed her.

"It's okay. If it makes you feel better you're not going to remember what I said anyway."

Hermione paused, not sure what he meant, until she remembered the "Creeping Amnesia" that would overcome her once they left the room. It made her feel better about her minor freak out. It also gave her the time to take in the fact that although she wasn't ready for the L-word to be dropped anytime soon, she did fancy the idea that there were things that Draco loved about her.

* * *

_June 5th, 2013_

Hermione had gone home after Draco had shown her his project, and yes, she had forgotten it. She had also forgotten about his pending meeting and the L-word about her bossiness. It was funny though that she turned red as an apple when he had mentioned something about her bossiness shortly before she left. He had read about emotional memory a few times when researching memory charms, but he had never had the opportunity to test it. Well, Hermione had been his unintentional guinea pig and it seemed she had been deeply affected by his words. He was too afraid to wonder if it had been in a good or bad way.

The next day Draco had surprised her (well, not really) for lunch, but he hadn't been prepared to find a sleep deprived, red-eyed brunette sitting at her desk. It was then that Draco began to wonder if his Creeping Amnesia had backfired, but Hermione's response had both settled and unsettled him: " _I'm not used to being home alone."_

Draco knew that she would have been too stubborn to boldly ask, and so after escorting her home post-dinner as usual, he lingered. They sat and talked and engaged in a bit of television watching until it was so late that they were too tired to move from her couch. That's where they slept that night and in the morning she had woken up to the smell of breakfast by a generous blond. Tuesday had followed a similar format with lunch, dinner after Hermione's workday, and then lazing about on her couch. When he woke up the next morning he found himself on the couch just like the night before, but this time he was alone. Before he could properly sit up and decipher what had happened after drinking a cup of tea last night, his eyes widened.

There was a cake on the coffee table. A  _birthday_  cake to be precise. Draco's lips morphed into a smile too wide for his face and he stared at it in delight. It was just after 10am so the clock in the living room read. He had half a mind to head straight to Hermione's office with the cake and have an early, unhealthy lunch.

"Oh, you're awake!"

Draco craned his neck in the direction of the kitchen full of surprise. "What are you doing home? Shouldn't you be at work?"

"It's your birthday, so I took the day off," Hermione said simply, a bashful smile accompanying her words. She took a few steps towards him and awkwardly gestured with her hands to the cake on the coffee table. "So…happy birthday."

Hermione watched him stare at her, look at the cake, at her, and then back at the cake again. It was a wonder that he didn't get whiplash. It was also amazing that her back was still intact as Draco rushed up from the couch and enveloped her in a choking bear hug.

"I take it that you like what I did?" Hermione laughed. Draco didn't let her go, but he did loosen his grip so that he could look at her properly.

"I love what you did," Draco said and he struggled to keep his amusement at bay at the reddening of her cheeks. "A cake  _and_  you took off from work? I already knew that you liked to cook, but you must really like me to sacrifice hours of poor posture at your desk. Bravo."

"Hey!" Hermione huffed as she tried, and failed miserably, to put her hands on her hips with Draco still holding onto her. "I do  _not_  have poor posture."

Draco said nothing but adjusted his hands so that one was on her lower back and the other on her chest just above her breasts. With a gentle push of them both Hermione found her body lifting upwards.

Draco released her and folded his arms. He teased his witch ever so smugly, "You were saying?"

"Oh, be quiet and grab two plates and a knife from the kitchen," Hermione deflected as she moved to sit on the couch.

Draco laughed loudly and even more so when he noticed her trying to sit fully erect. He went into the kitchen as she instructed but paused when he saw the mess. Pots and pans, ingredients… Draco went right back into the living room and pointed with a finger to the kitchen and then the cake.

"Did you  _make_  that?" He asked Hermione. When she sheepishly nodded he choked. " _When?_  I was here all night!"

"And you were sleeping too," Hermione smartly pointed out. "A touch of Sleeping Draught in your tea last night ensured that."

"Huh… You drugged me so that you could make me a birthday cake. That's either very sweet or possibly a felony."

"It's a bit of both, but I'm hoping that you'll ignore the felony part."

"I will, but only because I'm desperately attracted to you. I'll get a knife and plates."

* * *

Yes, the trip to the museum (planned for next week) was to be his birthday gift, but Hermione wanted to do something else. And so, after having cake for breakfast Draco went home to check on all of his experiments, shower, and change into different clothing. She told him that he needed to explore more and that was exactly what they were going to do. She had asked him if he'd ever been to a Transition Town before, and Draco was all smiles knowing that that's where she had wanted to take him.

It had "operation help Draco" written all over it, and he applauded her for it. A tit-for-tat for all the times he had kidnapped her, a Transition Town was the unofficial name for areas that were well-distributed with magic and non-magic people. That meant witches and wizards, muggles, and squibs lived among each other, but there was no need to hide any magic. Most often than not the muggles in question were family to a wizard. Lately there was a habit of encouraging families of muggleborns to move to such towns to help with their understanding of magic while not disturbing their way of life. It was also for that reason why Hermione wanted to expose Draco to one.

Draco's house was by a lakeside secluded from everything. Muggle towns he called home. Wizard towns were only acceptable if he had an escort and, to Hermione, he deserved not to walk on eggshells.

"There aren't very many apparation spots close by, so I hope that this is okay."

"So long as you promise that we're not going to die, it's fine."

"Are you serious?" Hermione laughed. She eyed Draco up and down before succumbing to even more hysterics and gesturing to the root of his fear. "You've seen dozens of cars. Why are you scared of one?"

"Seeing one and  _riding_  in one are two different things," Draco said with a creased brow. "Not to mention that I've seen what these things look like in a wreck. Nasty business if you ask me."

"Oh yes, of course. Like plummeting fifty feet or more off a broom isn't just as horrific."

Draco snorted. "If you're falling off your broom then you have no business being on one."

"And if you're getting into car accidents then you have no business driving," Hermione answered smartly. "There'll be no car accidents today, I promise. Besides, my parents would kill me if I destroyed their precious Vauxhall Astra."

Draco blinked. When they had apparated to a nearby train station and caught the train on the Underground to Hampstead he hadn't thought once about their journey. The same thing went for when they got off that train and walked through a residential area that was  _not_  a Transition Town. The absurdity of walking up to a random house and a car hadn't fully hit him until this moment.

"This is your parents' house?"

Hermione looked back at the two-story home and she nodded. "Yes. I wanted the car aspect to be a surprise, hence the tight lip on the matter. I also didn't want to burden you with the idea of 'meeting the parents,'" she added with a nervous chuckle. "Did...you  _want_  to?"

Draco stared beyond her and at the house before replying, "Depends on how they'd feel about their daughter seeing the man who bullied her for most of her life."

"If I recall correctly, the person who used to bully me was a  _boy_ ," Hermione amended. "All I've been exposed to now is a man who treats me far too well."

That was definitely an ego boost if he didn't say so himself, and Draco glanced once at the car before taking a deep breath. "Are they in there now?"

"They're at work right now. We can stop in on our way back home. Deal?"

"Okay."

…..

Draco liked where he lived. It was quiet and serene and it kept him at peace. People made him anxious, and he avoided them at all cost unless he had his loved ones as a crutch. Being alienated had worked well for him after the war because it was necessary. There had been a high chance of getting cursed on the street for being who he was, and in fact he had been. He could wholly admit now that his fears had become engraved within him, and they were terribly hard to shake. A Transition Town, he realized, was a good middle ground.

If he had to guess, half the town that they went to (a place called Burnham **)**  were muggles. A quarter were squibs who dabbled in activities that were magical in nature like being holistic healers or reading from tea leaves, while the other quarter were witches and wizards. What he liked best about it were the lack of stares and whispers. He was anonymous while still in a world that he loved. It was…nice.

Draco and Hermione spent several hours being tourists. She even took the time to show him how her mobile worked and how to take photographs with it. He felt a bit foolish fumbling around with the thing, and even more so when a man stopped mid-walk and began to laugh.

With a wide smile he spoke to Hermione while pointing to Draco, "Pureblood I take it? He looks just like my son-in-law the first time I showed him my mobile. I can take a picture of you both if you like?"

Draco was blushing furiously, but he thanked the man and allowed him to take their picture.

"How do you get it out?" He asked Hermione.

"I'll show you how when we get back to my parents'," she beamed happily, although he was quite suspicious over what she was so happy about.

The ride back to her parents' home was better than leaving. Draco, to put it mildly, had been panicking on the way to Burnham. A car was too enclosing, went too fast, and  _every_  other driver was far too close to them. Hermione had been having the time of her life at his expense and reminded him that the Hogwarts Express went much faster than a car and that the Knight Bus went faster than the train.

"The Hogwarts Express doesn't feel like it's moving and I've never been on the Knight Bus nor do I intend to," had been Draco's reply and Hermione had been utterly joyous during the journey.

Once back at the house, they parked next to another car, a clear indicator that the Grangers were home were it not for the lights. Hermione took Draco's hand and gently guided him to the front door. It flew open without knocking and they were met with an older, yet still splitting image of Hermione.

"You're here just at the time you said you'd be!" Mrs. Granger said happily as she hugged her daughter. Draco was befuddled on when Hermione had told her mother of their arrival time, but the young brunette just gave her mobile a little shake.

"I told her with this," she explained. "Text messaging. I'll show you later."

Turned out those little things could do a lot, but Draco ignored that and focused on the woman who looked ecstatic to meet him.

"You must be Draco," Mrs. Granger smiled. "Hermione's told us nothing but wonderful things about you."

Draco returned the cheerful expression and held out his hand. "I'm glad they're all good things. It's great to meet you."

"Now, now, the first thing you need to know about me is that I'm a hugger." Mrs. Granger had pushed his hand away and went straight for the hug. It looked like both mother and daughter hugged the same: with extreme enthusiasm.

"Come in, come in! I almost have dinner ready. David! Hermione and Draco are here!"

Draco followed Hermione inside and she closed the door behind them. The house was neither big nor small on first glance, and while there was no foyer and just a hallway to greet them, he didn't feel sandwiched in.

"Ah, there's the young man who's been stealing all of my daughter's attention," Mr. Granger said as he came down the hallway. "Hermione, darling, you look as lovely as ever," he added.

"Thanks, dad," she replied with a beet red face. "Shall we all migrate to the living room until dinner finishes?"

"Of course!" Mr. Granger replied. He directed them left which brought them to a living room suited for entertaining a small number of guests. Naturally, Draco and Hermione sat next to each other on the couch while Mr. Granger and his wife sat on an armchair and another couch respectively.

"So, Draco, Hermione told us that you were an inventor of sorts?" Mrs. Granger inquired pleasantly.

"Of sorts, yes," Draco smiled. "I tinker with spells and potions, making them better or creating new ones."

"Oh, that sounds quite exciting!"

"It is, and dangerous at times. I could end up mixing something incorrectly and blow myself to bits."

"Ah yes, that's just the mental image I need to have of you," Hermione pouted beside him. Draco laughed as he patted her hand, not missing the not-so-subtle glances her parents gave each other.

"At least you'd never be bored at work," Mr. Granger chuckled. "Same goes for the Mrs. and I. We're dentists, you see, and just last week a man nearly bit my fingers off while applying a numbing agent to his gums. Can you believe it? I looked him dead in the eye and said, 'Mr. Wilcox, it's either the numbing gel or the needle! Are you alright, son?"

It was Hermione's turn to be the laughing one, especially at how bewildered and pale Draco has suddenly become. "Dad, we've talked about this before. Dentistry isn't something you'd find in the wizarding world."

"Hmm, yes, you did say something like once. Draco, if you don't mind me asking, how is it that your teeth are so perfect without a dentist?"

"Dad!" Hermione screeched, her eyes comically wide.

"David!" Mrs. Granger hissed. "I know that you're proud of our profession, but can you refrain from analyzing the man's teeth?"

"What? He has a wonderful set of teeth  _without_ having seen a dentist. I'm curious."

"I know, dad," Hermione replied nicely, "but of all the things to ask my boyfriend can that  _not_  be it?"

Had Draco not been aware of his company he would've done the quickest double-take of his life. Instead, he let the warmth that started in his chest travel to his stomach, quelling his appetite, and focused on Mr. Granger's next question. Hermione groaned next to him, but Draco was ecstatic.

"I'd love to see her baby pictures."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> More fluff! Yey! So, random fun facts: 1) The Vauxhall Astra that Hermione's parents drive was listed as the 5th best selling car for the year 2011 according to The Guardian, 2) It took me a millennia to find a town that I thought could be a good Transition Town and would be better accessible by car rather than public transport from Heathgate, Hampstead, 3) The last chapter's title was called "Pacemaker" because Hermione is "setting the pace" for the relationship and Draco is doing a wonderful job at trying to regulate Hermione's emotions when they get all whacky :)
> 
> -WP


	19. Winning at Life

The rest of the evening went well. Mr. and Mrs. Granger had a great time showing Draco pre-Hogwarts photographs of Hermione. While they had been on the subject of photos, Hermione had taken the opportunity to show Draco her parents' computer and just how to get the picture of them on her mobile to print. Draco's confusion, fascination, and innocent questioning had quickly risen to be her favorite thing to happen that day.

Over dinner Draco and Mr. Granger introduced each other to wizarding and muggle sports. Mrs. Granger's eyes lit up when she and Draco began talking about his son and Hermione quietly reflected as words passed among the other adults.

She had called Draco her boyfriend. She was less concerned with moving too fast after their talk the night they went to France, but the fact that she had called him so left her feeling oddly…accomplished. She had consulted her conscience, waiting for her heart to condemn her for using such possessive terminology, and it hadn't failed her. She still felt a tightness in her chest, but the intensity killed her less. Just one less notch on her scale of guilt was a momentous step, and her joy didn't escape Draco's notice on their journey home.

"I don't recall doing anything to make you this giddy," Draco grinned as they walked through her front door.

"You didn't, but you're still the cause," Hermione admitted happily before plopping down onto her couch and patting the side next to her. "I called you my boyfriend today."

"I do remember that. I'm surprised that you did, albeit not unhappy."

"We were with my parents," she shrugged. "And last I checked you're certainly not my friend."

"If I was I'd say that we have serious issues with boundaries," Draco chuckled and then laughed when Hermione rolled her eyes.

" _Regardless,_  it didn't hurt as much as I thought it would. On a scale from one to ten...a seven."

Draco's face fell. "That's still a lot of pain."

"Not for someone who felt a twelve every day," Hermione smiled grimly. "Trust me, this is good."

 _This is good…_  Draco had a hard time believing that a level seven of emotional pain was good, but he took a moment to observe the witch in front of him. She did look happy. There had been no crying or an any onset of tears. What he did manage to see in her features was how proud of herself she was. He supposed then that he could live with a seven, right?

"Whatever kick to your pride you've got going on, stop it."

Draco snapped himself out of his thoughts and found Hermione staring at him with a knowing expression.

"My pride isn't hurt, thank you," he lied with his eyes tilted down, but Hermione shook her head and wrapped her arms around his neck.

"You have tells too, you know. The slight crease of your brow," she said as she gently poked below his forehead. "Your jaw tightens  _just_  a smidgen." Her lips turned up just as Draco's cheeks flushed when she traced her finger along his jaw. "You also don't look me in the eye."

Draco looked up at her then, annoyed that she had picked those things out, but impressed just the same.

"It took you months to talk me down my from metaphorical bridge," Hermione told him. "Don't be surprised if it takes you a few more for me to walk away from it. Be proud, too. You got me this far didn't you?"

Draco relished in the feeling of Hermione's fingers grazing the base of his neck and he knew deep down that yes, she had come quite far. And so he sighed, nodding to himself before saying, "Ten months if you count the first time we met again. Five if you start from our first dinner alone. Either way, I think I'll try to set a record."

Hermione leaned her head back and laughed. "Overzealous git."

"I love it when you call me names," Draco snickered. Hermione nearly snorted, but in lieu of that she let out a contented sigh when she felt his lips press against her skin. Never one to miss an opportunity, he had taken advantage of her exposed neck and kissed her there.

In the short time they had been seeing each other, Hermione found herself comparing Draco's and Ron's methods of intimacies. It wasn't on purpose, and she honestly couldn't help it. Whereas Ron would aim for the obvious areas (lips, neck, and chest), Draco did the same, but included her earlobes, chin, forehead, and shoulders. Where Ron liked to whisper in her ear at times, Draco chose silence, letting his actions speak louder than any words could. Neither method was better than the other. To Hermione, they were specific to each man, and they both pleased her. She had come to realize that it was okay to appreciate two different things, especially when the latter respected her love of the first.

That said, it had taken Draco nearly two weeks to work up the nerve to kiss Hermione somewhere  _other_  than her lips. While her neck and chest were rather innocuous places, she had since then taken to using Glamour Charms to cover the blemishes he left behind. That was as far as anything went and Hermione knew that it was an unconscious agreement on both their parts. From Draco's, he didn't want to push her too quickly, and for Hermione it was because there was still a part of her that couldn't let go. There were, of course, moments where she wanted to send some sort of signal to Draco that it was okay to do more and that she wanted to test what it would be like to be with someone that wasn't Ron. And yet, every time she tried she internally shrank back into the recesses of her mind where her body kept telling her that she was married.

One step at a time, Hermione told herself. And, according to Draco, he still had five months or less to work with to get her to walk away from that bridge.

* * *

_June 12th, 2013_

Hermione was currently in her bedroom doing what she had procrastinated doing ever since deciding to take this little get away with Draco: packing. It hadn't been on purpose. Ever full of foresight, Hermione would have had her trunk packed ages ago, but distractions, namely a handsome blond, kept getting in her way. But of course, she could always count on one of the Potters to help her out.

"Ginny, could you pass me those shoes over there?"

"Flats?" Ginny wrinkled her nose as she grabbed the pair from the middle of the floor. "That's seriously what you're packing?"

"We're going to a museum," Hermione chuckled. She took the shoes from her sister-in-law and set them in her trunk next to a second set. "We'll be sightseeing too and I don't need my feet to be killing me."

"You've got to eat, don't you?" Ginny reasoned. "And I think I've got Malfoy pegged well enough by now to know that he'll take you somewhere that borders on 'dazzling.' One pair of heels and an outfit that makes him drop to his knees. Please?"

"Oh, alright," Hermione huffed out. Ginny nearly squealed in delight as she dove into the brunette's closet and fished out a pair black strappy shoes with a not-so-moderate heel and handed them off. Without letting on, Hermione was glad that she chose them. They were her favorite set to wear when "sexy" heels were required.

"What hotel are you guys staying at?" Ginny called from inside of her closet. Hermione still needed a knee-dropping outfit, of course, although her closet had once been described as being devoid of anything "date-worthy."

"The Magician's Marquis. Tacky name, but a marvelous hotel so the brochure details say. And the rooms that Malfoy got-"

"Rooms?" Ginny stopped her. She came out with a maroon, one-shoulder dress that had a faint zipper at the side. "As in more than one?"

Hermione could already see the line of questioning that this was headed, but she couldn't derail the train now. She kept her eyes on her open trunk, swatting a pesky fly away and pretending to be thinking of what she needed to pack next when in actuality she was pretty much finished.

"I asked Malfoy to get separate rooms for us."

The silence in the bedroom was both awkward and comical. Hermione chanced a glance at the redhead who was very reminiscent of Mrs. Weasley with her hands on her hips. The added feature of a raised brow made it all Ginny.

"You're going to be sleeping in  _separate_  bedrooms?"

"Yes."

"Hmm. I guess that defeats the purpose of me asking for all the details on how good he is when you get back."

Hermione cracked a smile before she laughed and reached out for the outfit Ginny had in her hand. "You're right; it certainly defeats the purpose. Although, I should point out that just because we have two rooms that doesn't mean either one of us will  _stay_  in our respective ones."

"Ah, I see," Ginny mischievously grinned. "Planning on a sleepover already? Good for you!"

"I'm not," Hermione corrected, her lips still turned upwards as she closed her trunk. "Just pointing out the various possibilities. Whether it will or won't happen is entirely up in the air as well as escapades to follow."

"Merlin, I hope escapades follow," Ginny said dreamily. "Besides, anyone that makes you use a Glamour Charm that extensively must be a fantastic lover."

Hermione automatically let a hand cover the left side of her neck as she blushed terribly. It didn't help that Ginny was grinning like a mad woman.

"Good kisser?"

"Extraordinarily."

"Lovely," Ginny beamed with pride. "And although a pleasurable night or two with the man is 'up in the air' as you say, you should still be prepared for it. Now, I think that I saw something for the occasion in one of these drawers…"

Hermione's eyes were wide as she watched Ginny head over to her dresser drawers and began digging through one of them. "What exactly are you looking for?"

"I'm looking for… Aha! This!"

The "this" was a burgundy négligé. A combination of sheer and lace, it clung to her body like a one-piece swimsuit. She had bought it for Ron's birthday two or three years back and it had been, to quote him, "the best gift" she'd ever given him.

"I think Malfoy will appreciate this."

"I'd be surprised if he didn't. However, when that fateful day comes this," Hermione sighed as she slipped the the négligé from Ginny and held it up by it's straps, "won't be worn. This one was Ron's favorite. Malfoy should get something that's his. Something that's...not Ron's. Does that make sense?"

"It makes perfect sense," Ginny said with a soft, understanding smile. "And you know what? It's opportune. We can  _finally_  go lingerie shopping together!"

"What?" Hermione laughed. "Ginny Potter, never once in all these years have you expressed an interest in wanting to go lingerie shopping with me."

"Because it was my brother you would be shopping for! I already knew that you two were doing it, I just didn't want or need the lacey visual."

Hermione's throat was raw from laughing at this point, her eyes stinging from the tears. It had masked the sound of the fireplace downstairs, footsteps up the staircase, and two raps on the door.

"I would love to know who's making you laugh this hard so I can get pointers," Draco called from behind the door.

Ginny grinned and walked over to the door. "I can teach you," she said as she opened it. "It just depends on how dirty of an imagination you've got."

"Oh, Ginerva," Hermione sang from the side of her bed. "No teaching Malfoy any of your ways, please? His personality on a normal basis is already exhausting."

"I think the word that you're looking for is 'entertaining,'" Draco amended. "Otherwise you would've gotten rid of me long ago. Are you ready?"

"Yes." Hermione closed and locked her trunk, shrinking it down to a portable size. Next to her trunk had been the box containing the button and the slip of parchment with a spell to activate the portkey.

"Alright then, I guess that's my cue to get out of here," Ginny announced. "Malfoy," she addressed, "you take care of her while you're gone. And you," she added to Hermione with a mischievous stare. "Don't be good and do everything that I would do."

Ginny disapparated on the spot leaving Hermione to massage the bridge of her nose in awkward shame.

"Your in-laws are terrible influences," Draco pointed out. "I like that."

"You would you little troublemaker," Hermione shook her head. Draco was in total agreement and covered the hand that had the portkey holding it. Hermione took a moment to look around her bedroom, making sure that she was leaving nothing behind before saying aloud the spell that would activate the portkey. It grew warm in her hand when she was finished and soon they were floating through space and landing in Scotland. Banchory in Aberdeenshire, to be precise.

Unlike most places, they hadn't landed in a very hidden alley. It provided virtually no cover and seemed to only serve the purpose of keeping people from bumping into each other when apparating in.

"A Transition Town?" Draco questioned as he saw a car drive by. Hermione smiled and nodded in agreement. "Hmm, the brochure about this place didn't mention that."

"Well, 'Transition Town' isn't a technical term, so I'm not surprised. It's actually ingenious. Why not have a museum of wizarding history in a place where people who don't know it will be most likely to learn it? An excellent marketing strategy I say."

"I suppose so. Come on, let's head to the hotel. It's right up ahead."

Hermione looked in the direction he had gestured and yes, The Magician's Marquis was further along the street. She smiled at it fondly, not just because its architecture was pleasing to the eye, but also because it reminded her of The Burrow. It was four stories high and it twisted left and right as it went up. Hermione had a feeling that its eye-catching design was for the sake of muggles that, unlike with all wizarding hotels, didn't repell them.

"It's run by  _fairies?_ "

Draco gave a passing glance at every teller at the check-in area, the hostess to the restaurant on their right, and the bellhop clerk to their left. Fairies no bigger than the size of his hand from middle finger to palm were leading the charge.

"A tad unconventional, but yes, it seems so. And aided by house elves," Draco added as one appeared directly in front of them.

"Welcome to The Magician's Marquis!" The house elf greeted. "Anything you wish is our command! Let's have you checked in. Your luggage?"

"We can manage, thank you," Hermione told the creature, and she didn't miss the subtle roll of Draco's eyes before they were led to the main counter. She had to admit that it was a rather funny sight to see the fairies turning pages of a guestbook bigger than themselves, not to mention handing Draco a quill bigger than themselves for him to sign. Aside from signing, they both had to register their wands which would be their room keys. As for their rooms themselves, they were exquisite.

"Leave it to you to get a suite of some sort," Hermione grinned as she took her trunk out of her pocket and resized it to normal proportions.

" _Junior_  suite," Draco corrected. Hermione snorted. Like  _that_  made much of a difference.

She let Draco levitate her small trunk behind them as Hermione led the way into her "junior" suite. The small hallway held a bathroom sans shower to the right and a closet on the left. It opened up straight into a mini living room with a minibar in the corner, a balcony up ahead, and a television on the wall.

"Another closet?" Hermione questioned at a door in between an armchair and a four-person dining table.

"Another room," Draco answered as he set her trunk down. "Mine to be precise. I hope it's alright that I got adjoining rooms."

"Well, you're not a serial killer last I checked, so I think it's fine. Let's head to the museum!"

Draco barely had time to say yes before Hermione grabbed his hand and pulled him out of the room. The Wigglesworth Magical Museum was located on the outskirts of Banchory, and the hotel that they were in had a complimentary apparition spot where tourists could leave from that would take a person to the entryway of said museum. That was where Hermione and Draco had gone and when they got there neither of them could help themselves from letting their mouths drop.

"Holy hell, it's massive," Draco commented, and it was hardly an exaggeration. The building was all one floor expanding from left to right and taking up an  _enormous_  piece of property. He couldn't even begin to imagine just how many acres this museum stood on. Hermione was also wondering just how much land the building was taking up, and she frowned just a little at thinking of the wildlife and fauna that might have been disturbed by this despite its importance to wizarding society.

"Welcome to The Wigglesworth Magical Museum!" A friendly greeter said enthusiastically once Hermione and Draco had walked up a long pathway to an open archway in the middle of the building. "To make the most of your visit, please start the tour to your left. You'll continue making your way around the museum until you make it back to the entrance. Enjoy!"

"I've never seen anyone  _that_  excited for a museum," Draco whispered as they entered. "Except perhaps you. This is like walking into a library for you, isn't it?"

"Ha ha, very funny," Hermione fake laughed although there was still a huge smile on her face. "I'll have you know that nothing could ever replace the feeling of having a book in your hands  _or_  that book smell. However, this does come pretty close. Look! They start wizarding history with Ancient Greece! I didn't think that they'd start so far back…"

Draco could only shake his head at his knowledge-loving witch as he was dragged along to the wall of the museum where one could read about a particular history point, hear audio commentary, watch moving images, and even examine sculptures or real artifacts. For history this far back, there were things that he didn't know like wizarding life during the medieval era, although he was quite privy to the history of Armand Malfoy. He was the reason the Malfoy family had their home in Wiltshire after all. The most interesting thing about the entire (and lengthy) walk through the museum was having Hermione add her own two cents on various points because she had read it in such and such a book. Draco looked on fondly at the brunette several times remarking how lively she was. Yes, she had gotten better and was continuously improving in her mood and depression, but this was the first time that Draco was seeing  _that girl_  again. The swotty Know-It-All who hadn't a care in the world except excelling in her studies.

The one time that Hermione faltered was when the timeline hit the late 1970s and history began talking about Lily and James Potter. An abrupt halt in her movements came when the exhibit stumbled upon the year 1991. She stood still, as did Draco, and he gently cleared his throat. "We don't have to see this part. It's not like we don't know what happens."

Hermione smiled, albeit grimly. "Are you saying that for my benefit or for yours?"

Draco glanced at the wall again. Well, no, not a wall. It was an archway that had on one side the year 1991 and the other side 1998. "Both of us, I guess."

Hermione nodded in understanding and took a deep breath as she let her fingers smooth over the numbers for 1991. "They had invited us here, you know. For the grand opening of the Second Wizarding War exhibit they were hoping Ron, Harry, and I would be here, but we declined. We knew and experienced enough of the war to last a million lifetimes. We didn't need to see anymore."

"If you didn't need to see it then, you don't have to see it now," Draco suggested. "Besides, it's the one area where  _we're_ the subject matter. We probably shouldn't go in anyway."

Hermione agreed and hooked her arm with his as they found one of the various exit points along the perimeter of the museum that could let out a guest at any time. They took their time, both stewing in their thoughts as they made their way through a wide hallway to the main entrance.

Draco gave one last look back before saying, "Despite not wanting to see it, I am a bit curious about what it says about me."

"Oh, we don't need to see it to know that," Hermione replied nonchalantly. "History is all the same. When it comes to history people always stop the story at the climax with a soft resolution. It doesn't take a genius to know that the rest of the exhibit probably ends with the Battle of Hogwarts, painting me and my friends as heroes, and you and your family ditching the war along with various Deatheaters. There are no epilogues. It doesn't talk about my marriage or my undulating sadness, or about you and your struggles of loneliness and what a wonderful person you turned out to be. History, quite unsurprisingly, cares very little for the present."

"And yet the present is very keen on bringing up history," Draco said smartly. "You can't win at life, can you?"

"I don't know. I'd say that we're winning at life alright."

Draco smiled at Hermione and couldn't help but say yes. How else would explain them being here, together, despite everything that they'd gone through? A win at life indeed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank goodness for HP Lexicon for a little of magical history lol. Also thanks to Google, for helping me to pick out Banchory as where the museum would be. The photos of the town looked lovely :)
> 
> -WP


	20. The Bridge's Edge

It had taken a millennia to make it through the entire museum, so it only made sense that Draco and Hermione were both starving by the end of it. They still had one more day in Banchory which they had designated as an official "Tourist Day" to see what else the town had to offer. That said, they decided to make use of the room service the hotel provided and had dinner in Hermione's room. Of course, that led to nothing but grumblings from the brunette.

"I know that we've had this conversation before, but what exactly is your problem with house-elves?" Draco asked her. The house elf assigned to their room had recently left after setting out a lovely dinner spread for them, and she was brooding about it.

"How can you even ask me that?" Hermione scoffed, regretfully dipping her fork into her mashed potatoes. "It's practically indentured servitude. To be bound by a family for your entire life, to serve them, and to do whatever they ask is cruel."

"Tell me, have you ever met a house elf who didn't like being a one?"

"Oh, that's not a fair question to ask. They don't know any better. It's like Plato's Allegory of the Cave."

Draco tilted his head slightly as he reached for his glass of wine. "Muggle thing?"

"Yes, a muggle thing," Hermione smiled. "It's a story that was written by a man named Plato somewhere around the sixth century. As the story goes there are group of people who've only ever seen shadows on a wall all of their life. It's not until they actually leave it that they realize the reality that they're living isn't what it seems. That there's  _more_  out there waiting for them."

"Ah, I see," Draco replied with a gentle nod. He shooed away a random fly before replying, "So, you think house elves are only happy because being a servant is all they know?"

"Precisely."

"Well, as much as I hate to crush your spirits, that's not the same at all."

"No?" Hermione questioned with a furrowed brow. She set down her fork for a moment and leaned back in her seat. "How so?"

"Well, what you're talking about has more to do with knowledge than anything else. All they knew of the world was constrained by their living in a cave. While I understand the point that you're trying to make, feelings are different than what you know. When you're unhappy about something you know it. It doesn't matter how hard you try to ignore the emotion or whether you even understand it. When it's strong enough it'll overtake everything that you think of and what you do. If house elves weren't truly happy, trust me, they would make that known."

"Are you sure? It's a bit hard to let your feelings out when part of your servitude prevents you from speaking ill will of who you work for. It's just...complicated."

"Not really," Draco shrugged. "Look at myself. Constrained by everything that my family taught me and wanted me to do. It may have taken me longer than I would have liked, but I'm finally managing to break free, aren't I?"

Hermione had suddenly sat erect in her seat. "Did you just compare yourself to a house elf?"

Draco paused for a moment, a hand on his chin as he stroked a non-existent beard. "I think so, yes. Too insensitive?"

"A little, but mostly just sad," she admitted. "No person should be trapped in the ways that you've been."

"I agree, but it's almost over," Draco smiled. "Two more months and I'll be shot of the last thing that represents everything that's been holding me down. You can call me your boyfriend in public and I don't have to resort to calling you my girlfriend in my head. Or in French, for that matter."

"In French? When did you do that?"

"To Guillaume," he explained sheepishly. "Like you with your parents, I couldn't exactly call you my friend."

Hermione felt herself go warm and knew that her cheeks had taken on a pink hue. She covered herself by eating, but soon she was slowing her movements as her lips curled downwards. "I still don't understand why we have to hide while Astoria can date so openly."

"Primitive beliefs, I'm afraid. Beliefs where pureblood life bends to the will of the witch. What she wants, she gets. If she's upset, depressed, or takes on a lover, it's something that  _you_ , her husband, has done to cause her to falter. She is...blameless, and I'll be looked on as the one who couldn't keep the family together."

Hermione's mouth hung open. When she eventually managed to gather words to speak, she only had one thing to say, "Pardon me for saying this, but that is the most barbaric pile of shit I've ever heard in my life."

"And you word your distaste so elegantly," Draco winked. "But yes, I agree, and soon I can put it all behind me. Now, enough depressing business and onto something ridiculously childish. Are you ticklish?"

Hermione furrowed her brow with the oddity of the question and quirked a brow soon after. "I'm sorry?"

"Ticklish," he repeated. "Are you?"

"I'm pretty sure just about everyone is."

"Ah, but that doesn't answer the question. Are  _you?_ "

Hermione's guard was up faster than a blink and she instantly hugged her body as a form of protection. "I might be.  _Why?_ "

"Oh, well, that's easy to deduce," Draco grinned as he removed the napkin from his lap and set it onto the table. "I do believe that you once asked me my age and I said six, like my son. I'm a year older now and still very much a child when I want to be. I guess the question now is where to start? Stomach, neck, or feet?"

Perhaps a second had passed and Hermione leapt out of her seat in an attempt to run, but damn Draco and his speed had managed to capture her around the waist. As it turned out, yes, she was ticklish, and terribly at that.

"Malfoy!" Hermione laughed and screamed at the same time. He had opted to keep one hand around her waist and attacked her on both sides of her stomach with intermittent touches of her neck. " _Malfoy!_  You evil, little-!"

"Cockroach?" Draco supplied as answer. His mouth was near her ear and so his voice did a bit of tickling on its own. She squirmed terribly before she decided to give him a bit of his own medicine. She awkwardly bent an arm back and poked him in the ribs. "Hey!"

"You're not the only one who's ticklish, I see!" Hermione said with glee. A couple more pokes and Draco had loosened his grip enough so that she could turn around in his grasp. Now it was a her getting the upper hand and it turned out that he was even more ticklish than her. Both sides of the neck, shoulders, armpits, ribcage, and above the bellybutton.

"I give! I give!" Draco shouted. He had gracefully collapsed onto the floor by now and Hermione straddled him. She was doing her best to bypass his hands he had put up to shield himself, but eventually he caught her wrists and stopped her from further damage. "Remind me to never get into a tickle fight with you ever again," he smiled. Hermione laughed of her own accord this time and enjoyed the feel of Draco's fingers sliding across her forearms to her fingertips and back again.

"Are you actually admitting that you've met your match?"

"If by definition you mean 'companion' then yes."

How Draco was able to make her melt by saying so little Hermione would never know. Quite frankly she didn't care so long as he did it. He met her lips halfway as she leaned forward. The kiss was slow, yet deep, a gentle touch of tongues before gentleness was done away with. Draco's hands had moved from her arms, up her shoulders and now down her back. They had settled on her hips now and she feel the tips of his fingers tracing the edge of her shirt and where her skin began. Hermione's hesitancy was there, as always, but for the first time she ignored it. She closed her eyes as Draco splashed kisses along her throat and as her shirt rose. She didn't know if her rise in heartrate was from the act, Draco, or both, but her shirt was over her head now and they both paused. They stared each other in the eyes and neither dared to look elsewhere.

Draco licked his lips once and swallowing before saying, "Tell me what you want."

It was a loaded question, truly. Unfortunately, what Hermione wanted and what she emotionally could or couldn't do were two different things. Embarrassment quickly crept up to her face as she began to stammer.

"It's been… Not since Ron, have I…" She could feel herself tear up, but she'd be damned if she let tears fall despite how she felt. "I'm sorry."

She was shrinking back into her shell; Draco could see it. Although not totally irreversible, he still needed to keep her from a full retreat, and so he did the one thing he knew would work. With his hands now cupping his distraught witch's face he asked one simple thing.

"Did you forget how?"

Hermione sputtered, her eyes wide and her mouth agape. "I did  _not!_ "

"After two children and a loving marriage I would think not," Draco grinned. "Besides, out of the two of us I'm far more out of practice, I assure you. Circa...2005, as a matter of fact." He frowned then and scoffed. "Damn, Scorpius is my last indicator of a good time. How disappointing is that?"

Hermione stared blankly for what felt like hours. Soon, she was breaking out into a smile before succumbing to a laughing fit that had happy tears falling down her cheeks instead of sad ones. Draco took her raucous joy at his expense to be a good sign and he pulled her into him so that she could lay her head on his chest.

"Thank you," she mumbled her gratitude onto him. Draco nodded and let his fingers innocently dance across her shoulders.

"Anytime. Although, I'm obligated to warn you that unless you want to  _feel_  just how much I'm fond of you, you might want to stop straddling me."

Hermione lifted her head up slightly to catch Draco's face. He was one shade pinker and she couldn't help but giggle. "I guess putting on my shirt may also help, huh?"

"My active imagination says otherwise, but thanks for the offer."

* * *

_June 16_ _th_ _, 2013_

Most parents enjoyed a little time away from their kids, but Hermione had been a wreck without hers. Thank Merlin for Draco and her family and friends for the distraction. While Draco was off spending the rest of his weekend with Scorpius, Hermione had just apparated to Camp Piggleton to pick up Rose and Hugo. She had an entire day planned for her little ones starting out with their favorite dessert when they got home. She had pulled out all of the movies that they loved, laid them out in three stacks on the coffee table in front of the TV and they'd just have a relaxing Sunday afternoon catching up. It was perfect.

"Rose! Hugo!" Hermione shouted ecstatically once she saw them. Hugo heard her first and nudged Rose in the ribs. They both took off at a run and children and mother met each other halfway. "Oh, I missed you both so much!" Hermione greeted with massive hugs. "Did you guys have fun? Tell me all about it!" She paused, waiting for a barrage of everything that they had done for the past two weeks, but her children were oddly silent. Hermione pulled away from them, looking into both of their faces and realizing that they were far from happy. "Guys? Hey, what's wrong?"

"Um, Ms. Weasley?"

Hermione looked up to find one of the camp counselors gently beckoning her over. She frowned before telling Rose and Hugo to stay where they were and that she would be right back.

"Yes?"

"I'm so terribly sorry. It's… Well, it's Father's Day you see, and the camp had a few activities like card making and other crafts and…"

Hermione didn't have to hear anymore. Her heart had broken in half the moment she had heard "Father's Day" and her gaze immediately went to her kids. Without another word to the counselor, Hermione dashed to Rose and Hugo, dropped to her knees and pulled them into the tightest hugs she could muster. They returned the hugs just as fiercely, and instead of breaking, Hermione's heart shattered when she felt their tears trickle down her neck.

She didn't want to let them go, but it was the only way that Hermione could properly disapparate. With each child in hand Hermione found an appropriate place to leave from and soon they were all landing in the middle of their backyard at home. She took a moment to look down at her kids: Rose, on her right, using her free hand to wipe at her face, and Hugo, on her left, not even bothering to dry his face and just staring at the ground.

_How_  could she have forgotten what today was? She had her own father to think about for Merlin's sake. Hermione was weak all over, but she couldn't show that. Instead, she swallowed deeply and led the kids to the veranda so that they all sat down on the couch swing. Silence trickled in as Hermione tried to figure out what to do or say. Was there even a right way to handle this?

Hermione cleared her throat and regretted how uneasy her voice sounded. "Do...you guys want to talk about it?" She paused, looking at both child in turn. "It's okay if you don't."

Out of pure nervousness Hermione began rocking the couch wing back and forward, hoping that it would ease some of the tension. And it did, she supposed, for she only felt mild distress when Hugo spoke up in a soft tone.

"Can we go see dad?"

"I… Yes… If that's what you want to do."

"Can you make some flowers to take with us?" Rose asked her mother. Hermione patted her shoulder gently and nodded.

"That sounds like a wonderful idea. I'll make them after we leave so we don't lose them on the way."

Rose and Hugo hopped off of the couch swing and Hermione sluggishly followed suit. Whereas she had been feeling on top of the world lately, a crippling anxiety had snuck into her heart and weighed her body down. It was as she stood in the middle of the backyard with her children by the hand that she realized this would be the first time going to Ron's grave since February. She suddenly feared going as she wondered, quite irrationally, if Ron would be upset with her were he alive that she stopped going to see him.

"Mum, are we going?" Rose asked her.

Hermione broke from her thoughts and told her yes. She cautioned them both to hold on tight before they disapparated and they soon landed at an apparation spot not too far from West Norwood Cemetery. It seemed...bigger than the last time she was here. Sadder too, for there were dozens upon dozens of saddened people walking amongst the tombstones. She supposed she shouldn't be surprised. It was Father's Day after all, and there was no doubt in her mind that that was why it was so busy.

Two sets of flowers light enough for Rose and Hugo to carry were conjured before Hermione led them out of the alley they had apparated into. She walked with them across the street, pass the gates, and along various pathways among the dead. It wasn't long before reaching Ron's grave and she immediately hated herself. His tombstone wasn't the pristine, shiny stone as it once was. A couple small chips were here and there, and to her the words highlighting his name and epithet were fading, but the dates of his birth and death were blindingly clear. Top off the fact that the grass growing over Ron's burial site was looking old and worn, it ached Hermione to see it this way. Every month she used to give his tombstone a proper touch-up. Anti-weathering charms, spells for lawn tendering, you name it. Hermione didn't just stop coming to see her husband, she also stopped caring for him.

Hermione took a deep breath to keep her emotions at bay and kept her gaze at other things around her. The trees, other graves, people, the sky and its clouds. Even then Ron's tombstone was still in plain sight. So were Rose and Hugo who had just given their father his flowers and were now holding hands. It was this moment above all others that solidified the pain of this day. Her children weren't fine.  _She_ wasn't fine.

Would they ever be?

* * *

_June 18_ _th_ _, 2013_

Draco had expected not to hear from Hermione on Sunday seeing as her children were coming home from camp. He figured that they were having a blast being reunited with each other after two weeks and so he left them to it. As Monday morning and afternoon came and went, he began to worry and so he sent her an owl asking her how she was. By the evening he had received a generic, " _I'm fine_ ,  _thank you_ " and that had been the end of it. This morning Draco sent her another owl, asking if she was alright, and yet again he had received a letter along the same lines. He went to her office then, hoping to see her, but then was confused when she wasn't there. She wasn't at home either when he checked, and it befuddled him even further. It was possible that maybe she had been in a meeting or had taken a late lunch, and so when he was sure that she would be home from work, Draco Flooed to her house again. It was obvious that something was amiss and he wasn't going to find out in any other way than in person.

It wasn't quite dinner time, but it was obvious that it was in the process of being made if the smell was anything to go by. Draco headed straight to the kitchen and found Hermione busily going at it with various pots and pans and food items.

"You're ignoring me."

Startled, Hermione dropped the wooden spoon in her hand and let out a shriek. "Malfoy! What are you doing here?"

"Oh, no particular reason. Just trying to find out why I haven't heard from you," Draco said with a nonchalant, albeit agitated shrug. "Those one-sentence letters of yours don't count."

Hermione frowned and sighed as she bent down for her spoon. "I'm sorry. I've been a bit distracted."

Draco cocked a brow. "A bit?"

"A lot," she amended. "It's not your fault, I promise. It was Father's Day on Sunday as I'm sure you're aware, and it didn't exactly bode well for Rose and Hugo what with a father-themed last day at camp."

"Hell," Draco relaxed his shoulders. He could've kicked himself having not realized how big of a deal this was. He nodded to himself in understanding and rocked back on his heels. "Are they okay?"

"No," Hermione said sadly. She sighed and took a moment to turn off the stovetop before she burned everything and turned back to Draco. "I've spent the past two days home with them and they're just… They're not themselves. Rose and Hugo miss their father so much, and I don't know how I couldn't see it. I'm their mother; I should know that they're not alright. I should've known. I should've-"

"Hey, hey, hey, stop." Draco could see a rant coming and he walked over, putting his hands on Hermione's shoulders with a gentle squeeze. "Don't you dare beat yourself up. One bad day doesn't mean that Rose and Hugo aren't alright."

"One bad day?" Hermione repeated. She scoffed and shrugged Draco's hands away from her. "Has anyone you really loved ever died? No? Well, let me be the one to inform you that it's not just 'one bad day.' It's a pain that doesn't go away. It… It stays there, in your heart and in your head, and you're never really fine."

Draco felt his insides collapse. It was there now. Everything that was Hermione Weasley as he had first met her was swimming at the surface of her face and body. Her watery eyes, her tense posture, an overall gloom that dimmed her natural aura.

"You're talking about yourself, aren't you?"

Hermione could hear the disappointment in his voice and it made her feel sick. She was hurting him, but what more could she say that wouldn't do worse? Seconds passed between them and it turned out that her silence was just as bad as any words that could come out of her mouth. Draco took deep a breath, a small, yet detectable nod accompanying it as he stuffed his hands into his pockets.

"I guess I'll just head home then."

Hermione didn't want him to, but she also didn't know how much better the situation would be if he had stayed. And so, she continued to stand in the middle of the kitchen as Draco turned on his heel and left the room. Moments later the fireplace roared to life and she knew that he was gone. Simply knowing that fact should have eased some of her tension and burden, but instead her body caved in and she slipped to the floor in a sobbing mess.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In a weird twist of fate, this chapter comes out just before the weekend of my one-year anniversary that my five-year relationship ended. I had started writing this story the year before it happened, but a lot of it when I felt the relationship dying, and the rest after that worst day of my life (and still writing). To me, no matter how you lose someone, if the love was strong it'll always hurt. Trying to be strong will hurt. Moving on/trying to move on will hurt (and hurt not just you, as in Draco's case). I've found that many scenes with Hermione combatting her grief for Ron and hesitance to move on are my exact feelings battling my own sadness over my ex, even a year later. Nothing more than this last scene has touched me so, especially when Hermione says, "It's not just 'one bad day.' It's a pain that doesn't go away. It… It stays there, in your heart and in your head, and you're never really fine."
> 
> Thanks for reading guys :)
> 
> -WP


	21. Sold As Is

_June 23rd, 2013_

Harry stood by the backdoor of Hermione's house with a huge grin on his face. He had brought his kids over and now they and his niece and nephew were enjoying themselves playing "Where's the Witch?"

"Don't you wish you were still a kid sometimes?"

Hermione chuckled at Harry's question as she put on a kettle for tea. "Not to be rude, but you had an awful childhood. Why would you want that?"

"It wasn't  _all_  bad. There were good moments thrown in there."

"True."

Hermione hummed quietly to herself as she set out cups and the tea that they liked. A rustling noise behind her indicated an owl flying in, and so she supposed it was the post. However, it was Sunday, and the post didn't usually come on Sundays unless there was an emergency.

Frantic, Hermione turned and yes, just as she had expected, Falcon was on her kitchen table with a letter from Draco in his beak. She eyed Harry for a moment before anxiously moving over to the bird.

"Thank you, Falcon," Hermione said with the letter now in hand, but he didn't move and gave a gentle hoot. Again, she side-glanced at Harry who was now intrigued. "You can go, Falcon."

_Hoot! Hoot!_

"I'll Floo Call him," she compromised. "Alright?"

Falcon tilted his head slightly, his wide eyes gazing at her before hooting yet again. This time Hermione angrily lashed out, "I'll talk to him  _later_ , Falcon! Now go!"

An equally angry squawk escaped the owl before he finally heeded Hermione's words. She refused to look at Harry by now and moved away from the table.

"You and Malfoy have a fight?" Harry questioned. He watched his friend go over to a drawer and stuff the new letter inside. There were others more like it. At first glance it seemed like a dozen or more. "Hermione?"

"Yes, it was a fight. Of...sorts."

"Really? He must've really messed up if he's writing you that much. What did he do?"

Hermione sighed deeply before turning off the stove to the whistling kettle. "He didn't do anything. Our conversation ended on a sour note last week and, quite frankly, it's for the best."

"For the best?" Harry repeated in shock. "What happened with you two? Malfoy's been nothing but a saint, odd as it is for me to say."

"I know that, and like I said, he did nothing wrong. It's Rose and Hugo. I'm worried about them."

"Rose and Hugo? What do they have to do with you and Malfoy?"

"Everything!" Hermione yelled exasperatedly. Harry was taken aback and she groaned bitterly before leaning her back against the sink. "I told you what happened on Father's Day. They were crushed. I realized then that they're not over Ron's death. For me to be seeing someone… It's not fair to them."

Harry stood with his mouth agape. He glanced through the window of the door yet again and found Rose and Hugo. Happy smiles. Laughing. Playing. He had seen them earlier in the week too, sad and brokenhearted, but...they weren't like that anymore.

"I can't let you do this."

Hermione furrowed her brow as she stared at him. "Do what?"

"Use Rose and Hugo like this," Harry said sternly. "They're not the problem.  _You are._ "

" _Excuse me?_ "

"Face it, you're using them as a crutch. They're an excuse just so you can push Malfoy out of your life."

"How am I using them as a crutch?!" Hermione huffed loudly. "You've seen them! They were  _not_  the picture of 'okay' kids! How can you expect me to date while knowing that?!"

"' _Were'_  Hermione!" Harry shouted at her. "They  _weren't_  okay, but that's in the past! They had a moment, and they faltered, yes, but look at them  _now_. They're fine!" Harry had gestured to the backyard, the sound of joy coming from outside. He could see Hermione's sadness now, clear as day, and he frowned as he moved closer to her.

"Listen," he said softly, taking her hands in his. "I'm not saying that they don't miss Ron, because I know that they do. I know  _you_  do. I miss him too, you know. There are things that happen in my day to day that I think, 'Oh, Ron would love to hear about this,' I grab a quill and some parchment and then realize that I can't write to him. I sit, and I cry. I look at old photographs. When my fit is over I go about my business and do what I have to do because life moves on whether I like it or not. Rose and Hugo's fit is over, Hermione. Stop pretending that it isn't so that you can keep pushing Malfoy away. You have to move on in your day to day just like I do."

Hermione's hands were trembling. All of her was shaking honestly, and the only thing she could think of to stop herself from falling was wrapping her arms around Harry in a hug so that he could hold her up.

"What if I keep doing it?" She asked desperately. "Pushing him away because I'm trapped in my own misery? He deserves better than that."

"This is the same man that once held you hostage when you were in an emotionally destructive state. He's also the same one who's been writing you all week despite your last conversation," Harry smiled. "I think you're underestimating how much he cares about you. He may even love you, however premature it may be to say. Don't be afraid to love him back."

Hermione gently let Harry go and bit the inside of her jaw. Her eyes gravitated to the drawer with Draco's letters. All sixteen of them. Seventeen, if she counted the one from just a moment ago.

"Do you mind watching the kids while I-?"

"Go," Harry encouraged, and Hermione fled. She went straight to her fireplace and Flooed to Draco's house, exiting into a child's dream filled with toys.

"Hi, Ms. Weasley!" Scorpius greeted. He was surrounded by a sea of Lego blocks as he worked on his latest creation.

"Hello, Scorpius," she smiled fondly. "Did you and your father have a good weekend?"

"Yeah! It was fun even though my dad was a little sad."

Hermione's face immediately fell. "He was sad?"

"Uh huh. He didn't even laugh at my jokes!"

"Oh…. I'm sorry to hear that." She shuffled uneasily on her feet before tentatively adding, "Say, I'd like to try to make him feel better if that's okay? Where is he?"

"In his quiet room," Scorpius replied and went back to his child's play. Hermione could've guessed that's where he would be, and so she took her time in the trek upstairs to the room where Draco often drowned in his sorrows.

The door to Draco's quiet room was slightly ajar and Hermione could hear him inside. Well, not  _him_ , per se. What she heard rather was quill on parchment and her heart ached at knowing that he was probably writing her yet  _another_  letter. "Anxious" was too lax of a term for how she was feeling, and she stood outside of the room, still as a statue for what may have been a full five minutes. Eventually, she did get her bearings and slowly pushed open the door. She didn't know what to expect really, but it certainly wasn't Draco sitting in his armchair, writing away, with crumpled balls of parchment in a rubbish bin and all around the floor when the bin itself was full.

"Oh my Merlin… You must hate me."

Draco fumbled in his writing and the quill fell from between his fingers. When he looked up at her Hermione realized that he hadn't shaved. Despite the slightly disheveled mess it represented, it looked good on him.

"Granger," he breathed in disbelief. Whereas he hadn't cared before he was suddenly aware of the mess his quiet room was in and used his wand to clean it up. Draco stood then and ran a hand through his hair. "I was hoping for a letter in return, but this is… This is better."

"Do you hate me?" Hermione repeated her question. The silence that loomed in after that choked her as she waited for a response, relief coming soon after seeing Draco slowly shake his head.

"No. You're not ready for a relationship and I should be okay with that considering everything you've been through. It's what I've been saying in my letters."

"Oh." Now Hermione felt guiltier than ever for not opening them and she hung her head low in shame. "Malfoy, I… It's not as simple as you're making it out to be. I'm constantly at war with moving forward and staying exactly where I am. It's easy to say that I'll do this or do that when I'm ready, but the truth is…I'll never be completely ready. Ron was my life."

Draco rocked back on his heels and took a deep breath. "So…what does that mean exactly?"

"It means...that I hope you keep trying? That you don't give up on me when I've given up on myself and my ability to move on?" Hermione said hopefully. She waited with a hitched breath on what he would say. She also analyzed every movement he made like his clenched jaws, downcast eyes, and his tightly held fists in his pockets. The longer it took for him to say something, the more she realized that she had gone to him for nought. "Or maybe not."

"Granger-"

"No, no, it's fine," she backpedaled, her chest tightening at the outcome of this adventure. "It really is okay. No one wants a trainwreck for a girlfriend, so we'll leave it at that."

Hermione turned quickly, ready to run for the nearest fireplace, when she felt a tug on her hand. Draco had pulled her back and she soon found herself in his arms. He kissed her too, and oh how she had missed him. When they finally pulled apart they didn't go very far. They'd been far enough from each other already these last few days.

"You are one stubborn witch. You know that?" Draco asked her with a happier tone in his voice. Hermione laughed and snuggled her head into his neck.

"I think you mean 'broken.'"

"I like my word better."

* * *

_July 3rd, 2013_

Draco had scaled back quite a bit after Hermione's temporary freak out (not that she blamed him). She tried to tell him that it was okay and that if anything made her feel uncomfortable that she would let him know. It helped some, but hesitancy still lingered in the air. Tonight was the first night that Hermione felt things were turning back to normal as they would be going out for dinner instead of having it indoors. What made it special was that they were finally having that double date she had accidentally asked for back in May with Theo and Franny.

"It's only now that I realize I don't know much about Theo except that he was in our Year, has Healer training, and works for McGregor's. Aha!"

Draco glanced over at his witch and shook his head amusedly. She had been chasing away a fly for the past fifteen minutes and had finally managed to get a good hit with her clutch purse. "Satisfied?"

"Very," Hermione happily huffed. "Now, Theo?"

"Well, you wouldn't know much about him, would you?" Draco shrugged. He was standing in front of his bedroom mirror trying to decide if to forgo cufflinks or not. It wasn't until Hermione got up from sitting on his bed and began putting his cufflinks on that he "decided" to use them. "He was far less of a troublemaker than me or any of my other friends. He mostly kept to himself and studied. That's when we would spend the most time together actually."

"Studying," Hermione shook her head as she finished with one cuff and moved on to the other. "Despite knowing that your marks were rather good, I can't quite put that picture of you together."

"Unfortunately, you have a very tainted image of me for that to be a possibility."

"Oh, I don't know." She was finished now and stepped back a moment to admire the view. Tall, blond, beautiful eyes, a curious yet endearing expression, and an attractive way of adjusting his sleeves. "Thinking of you as an unusually thoughtful and doting man has replaced that quite well."

"Well, glad to know that I've managed to right one wrong in my life," Draco answered proudly. Soon after that the sound of the Floo rang through the house as well as a male voice telling Draco to "get his arse to the living room." He shook his head and appealed to the witch who was holding back giggles. "He has more decorum than that, I promise."

That was a bet Hermione knew very well not to make and instead followed Draco out of his bedroom and downstairs where Theo was waiting with his girlfriend. They had been talking amongst themselves, and Hermione quickly analyzed them as she took one stair at a time. Franny seemed friendly and obviously in love with Theo if her enamoured gaze was anything to go by. As for Theo, his smile and the way that he carried himself held an approachable charm. She briefly wondered if he was like this at Hogwarts or if time had matured him this way.

"Theo, Franny," Draco gestured with a slight tilt to his head. He had been leading Hermione by the hand and now she stood beside him completely unsure of how to introduce herself when one of these people she knew through abstract association. Luckily, Theo took the lead.

"Lovely to meet you," Theo greeted with a stretch of his hand. "Properly, at any rate. Knowing  _of_  you is quite different than actually knowing you. Also, might I say wonderful job you've done on him?" He nudged with his chin to Draco. "He's as gentle as a pygmy puff since he's been seeing you."

"Franny, please tell your boyfriend that I'll still skewer him."

"Oh, don't do that," Franny laughed. "What would I do without him then? It's a pleasure to meet you," she said to Hermione once Theo was through with his introduction.

Hermione shook her hand just as she did Theo's and, despite meeting two strangers, she felt at ease with them. "Wonderful to meet you both. I hear that you're the one to thank for where we'll be eating tonight?" She added to Franny and she beamed proudly as she confirmed with a nod.

"Oh, yes! It's a muggle restaurant in Hastings called  _La Bella Vista_. Aside from the great food, it's right on Saint Leonards-on-Sea."

"You can never go wrong with food and a view," Theo cosigned while offering Franny his arm. "We should get going if we want to take advantage of the sunset on our way to the restaurant."

Draco and Hermione locked hands with Theo and Franny so that they could properly disapparate together. They landed at a well-conceived apparation spot some six blocks away and began the slow trek along Saint Leonards-on-Sea's edge.

"Draco tells me that you work for the Ministry's Department of Magical Welfare," Theo nonchalantly chatted. "Forgive me, but it was a bit of a surprise. If I remember correctly, you were all about books and learning so I figured something in their research sector might have interested you more."

"Oh, she's still in love with books, trust me," Draco smirked, and then rubbed his side when Hermione playfully elbowed him in it.

"It was an interest of mine at first, yes," Hermione nodded, "but after…events towards the latter end of our Hogwarts years I figured magical welfare would be better."

Theo frowned and briefly caught Draco's eye before clearing his throat. "Right. Of course. It makes sense."

"I hear that you have two children," Franny jumped in. "They must be adorable."

"Oh they are," Hermione beamed. "I've got pictures of them if you'd like to see?"

"Yes, please!"

Franny unlatched herself from Theo while Hermione did the same with Draco, and the two of them walked up ahead as the latter showcased a set of two-by-two photographs of Rose and Hugo. They were far enough in distance so that Theo could let go a sigh of relief.

"Sorry, mate."

"No need to be sorry. It can be a bit difficult when speaking with her to know what could be a trigger or not."

"I can imagine." Theo paused for a moment as he adjusted his collar. "And how's she been doing since…well,  _since?_ "

"Better," Draco smiled. "Honestly, out of the two of us it's me who's the hesitant one now. I just don't want to make a mistake."

"You've handled her when she's been in a fragile state before," Theo pointed out. "Why would any other time be different?"

"Because then it'll have to do with  _me._ Make her rethink being with me. This time around she came back to me, yes, but who's to say that she'll do that again?"

"Poker."

"What?"

"Think of Granger like a game of poker," Theo suggested. Draco continued staring at him like he had just downed a Babbling Potion, but Theo plowed on. "You, Mr. Gambling Problem-"

"- _Habit._  And I haven't played in a long time, thanks."

"Fine, fine, but follow me, yeah? Granger's a poker game. Think of all her triggers, the ones you know of anyway, like other poker players. Read them, pick out the signs, and then act accordingly. It can't hurt, right?"

Draco pursed his lips together, mulling over what Theo said. He took this moment to look ahead of him and see Hermione interacting with Franny. Her smile. Her laugh. Genuine happiness. If he did as Theo said, this would be his biggest gamble yet, but one that he was willing to make. And if he ended up losing (Merlin forbid), it would've still been the best poker game he had ever played.

"Look at them. They're best friends now."

Draco broke free from his thoughts and stared at the pair of women who looked like they had known each other for years. He couldn't help but laugh and stuffed his hands into his pockets. "Bloody hell, what have we done?"

"Doomed ourselves to double dates they'll plan on their own and tell us the day of."

"Sounds about right."

Silence flooded in, but only for a moment. Theo swallowed deeply before uttering words that made Draco stumble while walking. "What?"

"I said that I want to ask Franny to marry me."

"Yeah?"

Theo nodded, not once taking his eyes of the woman in question who had just laughed at something Hermione had said.

"I've got a ring and everything, but I haven't a clue how to do it. It's been plaguing me so badly that I've taken up carrying it everywhere."

"Is that so?" Draco questioned, side-glancing at his friend as he analyzed him. "So, you have it on you now?"

"Left pocket."

"Do it now then."

It was Theo's turn to stumble where he stepped, and Draco had to grab his arm before he slid down into the water on their right.

" _Now_?" Theo choked. "You want me to propose  _now?_ "

"Why not?" Draco shrugged. "We're walking along the water's edge, there's a sunset, and our dinner could turn out to be a celebration of your engagement. If Franny says no, you'll cry on Granger's shoulder and I'll try to set you up with the prettiest waitress."

"Merlin, you're awful."

"Only a little. Now walk a little faster."

Draco gave Theo a gentle push and the two of them quickened their steps to reach their respective witch. Theo reached Franny with a neat pull on her waist while Draco held onto Hermione's hand and discretely guided her to hang back with him.

"What are we…?"

"Watch," Draco whispered in Hermione's ear to settle her confusion when the other couple stopped their steps a little ways from them.

Hermione looked from Draco to Franny and Theo and it wasn't long before she realized what was happening. Theo was getting down on one knee and Franny looked absolutely beside herself, although it was clear that she was over the moon. It was a beautiful sight, and she was more than happy to be part of this moment. She felt happy tears for the couple spring to her eyes as Franny shouted her " _Yes!"_  and a happy sigh escaped her when Draco wrapped his arms around her and he settled his chin on her shoulder.

"How did you propose to Astoria, Malfoy?"

Draco was surprised at the question, but he kept it to himself as he answered. "I didn't. Astoria and I already knew that we were getting married. When the courting season was over I gave her my grandmother's ring and that was it. How…did Weasley do it for you?"

"He made me mad."

"Sorry?"

"Ron had made a really insensitive comment about house elves. Naturally, it wound me up. While I was ranting and raving I was too busy to see him getting down on one knee."

"Huh," Draco chuckled. "Risky move with your temper, but a good one."

"Yes," Hermione grinned, her happy tears mixing with sad ones, but an overall contented feeling in her heart. "I thought so too."

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: I love that Hermione boldly admits how hard it is for her, but she doesn't want Draco to give up on her. I think that's true courage on her part. The fact that Draco's up for that challenge really shows how much he cares (or even loves) her :)
> 
> -WP


	22. Pestilence

_July 5th, 2013_

"Bonjour, Draco,” Madame Roche greeted him as he walked up to Monsieur Dupont’s office. Draco returned the greeting with an enthusiastic grin, and it wasn’t because he was happy (as always) to see her.

Today was the second to last counseling session with Astoria that he would have to have. Next month would be the last, and once that was over they could _finally_ move ahead with finalizing the divorce. It had been a long and tedious year, but he had managed to make it through with the help of a lovely brunette. Once it was all over he could be cut loose and able to pursue a relationship with Hermione without consequences. Hell, he’d already planned their first date as an official couple.

“Oú est Astoria?”

Madame Roche’s question brought Draco down to earth and he looked around the waiting area although not much looking was needed. Astoria wasn’t here. She usually beat him to these because she was so anxious to have them. Draco, on the other hand, would only arrive just moments before their session began. Considering that their current session was going to happen within the next ten minutes, he expected her to be here by now.

Draco furrowed his brow. “Je ne sais pas.”

Confused, Draco sat down and crossed his ankle over his knee, his hands cupped on his lap. A clock was visible from where he was, and the closer to the hour it became the more agitated _he_ became. It wasn't like Astoria to be late for anything, and especially not late for this. Even Madame Roche began shooting worried glances his way.

As one minute to the hour came, Draco sighed and stood. He was going to tell Monsieur Dupont that they would have to reschedule their session as his wife was nowhere to be found and that he was going to look for her. However, before he could knock on the door it opened of its own accord.

“Draco,” Monsieur Dupont answered. “Good to see you.”

“Yes, you too. Listen, we're going to have to reschedule. Astoria,-”

“Won't you come inside?” He had opened the door wider and stepped aside to let Draco in.

“But Astoria's not here-”

“I know. Inside, please?”

He knew? Instead of being confused and worried, now Draco was just confused. He gave one last look at the empty waiting area, to Madame Roche who was just as puzzled, and then walked into the counselor's office.

“What's going on here?” Draco demanded once the door had closed. He watched as Monsieur Dupont left him and walked over to his desk.

“I advised Astoria not to come today.”

“ _Excuse me? Why?_ ”

“Because this brief session, or talk rather, is solely for you and I,” Monsieur Dupont told him as he took something out of an envelope. “It has come to my attention that you have been courting a woman over these past few weeks.” Monsieur Dupont slid something across his desk and encouraged Draco to come closer. He really didn’t want to, for even from a distance he could tell what was waiting for him.

Draco braved the short trek from the middle of the room to Monsieur Dupont’s desk and he felt his chest fall straight to his stomach as his eyes confirmed this nightmare. Photographs. Photographs of him and Hermione from their trip to the museum, one of them (quite disturbingly so) from when they were on the floor and she was shirtless. Others were from various outings over the past couple of weeks, including from two nights ago with Theo and Franny. What made his skin crawl the most was that the majority of the photographs were so clear and up close like the one from the hotel. How the hell was this possible?

“These counseling sessions will have to renew,” Monsieur Dupont stated after watching Draco’s expression go from shock to anger in one swift motion. “It will be another year's worth. I've already sent in the request to the Ministry.”

Draco snapped his gaze from the table to the man in front of him. “You can’t do that.”

“I’m very well in my rights to do so. You haven’t complied with the terms of these sessions and therefore-”

“To hell with your ‘therefore’ and all of this double standard bollocks! Astoria had been seeing someone and _everyone_ knew. Where was the outage then? Why weren't the sessions extended _then?_ ”

“Rumor, extensive or not, is not definitive proof. This, however,” Monsieur Dupont gestured to the photographs, “is more than I need.”

“Where did you get it?”

Monsieur Dupont cleared his throat and paled as he settled his back against his seat. “I'm not at liberty to say.”

“Not at liberty to say or just bribed not to, I wager,” Draco snarled viciously. “No matter. It doesn't take a genius to figure it out. But before I go…” Draco took out his wand and pointed out at Monsieur Dupont's desk. “ _Incendio!”_

Monsieur Dupont jumped back and fell from his seat as a massive flame erupted from Draco's wand. It was meant to destroy the photographs, which it did, but it also engulfed most of the man's desk. He turned on his heel and left the office, slamming the door behind him. He was so angry that he didn’t even stop to address Madame Roche’s concern. Instead, he unwisely disapparated mid-stride and landed in the middle of the foyer of the home he had shared with Astoria up until last year. It wasn’t until now that he realized that this was the first time he had seen it since then. With the exception of a few extra frills and lace Draco had once objected to, the home was virtually the same.

“I should’ve known you would’ve shown up.”

Draco turned and found Astoria standing below the archway to the foyer from an adjacent hall. She looked prim and proper as she always did, and perhaps more so as though she was heading out for the day. Probably to celebrate the massive win her underhandedness had given her.

“You had Granger and I followed.”

Astoria sighed deeply as she took a step away from the hall and into the openness of the foyer. Instead of walking up to him she headed towards the base of the stairs. “Come with me, Draco. We should talk.”

“Talk?” Draco balked. “ _Talk?_ Fine, let’s talk. How the hell could you do it? How could you be so _petty_ as to hire someone-!”

“Draco-”

“-to follow us?! If I had done the same thing with you-”

“ _Draco-!_ ”

“-it would’ve been a bloody field day!”

“ _OUR FATHERS_  HAD YOU FOLLOWED!”

Draco snapped his mouth shut. He had heard what Astoria just shouted, but there was still some part of him that didn’t fully comprehend what had just been revealed.

“What?”

“As hard as it may be for you to believe, I didn't have a single hand in this espionage or Monsieur Dupont's decision,” Astoria informed him with a light huff. “Will you follow me now?”

Astoria didn’t wait for him. She took to the stairs and Draco, having nothing else to do, followed her just as she asked. While Draco was still blinding with rage, it was quelled slightly by his overwhelming confusion on what his father and hers had to do with this atrocity. And so he kept quiet. He made it to the top of the stairs and followed his wife down the hall to where the study was. It was in there that he hovered near the door while Astoria went over to a desk and picked up an envelope.

Before opening it she gave a side-glance at Draco. “If Monsieur Dupont has already showed the photographs then this part is unnecessary. Did he?”

Draco swallowed, his memory of those photographs unfortunately seared into his brain. “Yes, he did.”

“Fine then.” Astoria dropped the envelope and leaned against the desk with a cross of her arms. “I had every intention of going to our session today. I dropped Scorpius off with your parents as I always do on a Friday, but my father was also there. He took it upon himself to tell me that I didn’t have to see Monsieur Dupont this afternoon. That it was ‘taken care of.’” Astoria snorted at that last part before carrying on. “I hadn’t a clue what he meant and that was when he showed me the pictures. He went on to say that this should give you time to come to your senses, and that I should thank Lucius for connection to Karl Lashley and his best animagus at the Daily Prophet.”

_Animagus…_

The pictures. The close ups. It would make sense then how they were so well-taken. But what was the form? What could he or she have been that Draco had missed this completely?

“You’re sleeping with her?”

Astoria’s question was so softly asked that Draco barely heard it. He looked up at her, and for the first time since this whole mess started, she didn’t look angry. This time she actually seemed sad.

“You care?” Draco scoffed. “Forgive me in thinking that I find that highly hypocritical of you.”

Astoria's vulnerability disappeared instantly and she sneered in her counter. “ _You_ cared when I saw other people.”

“I cared because you had no respect for what a marriage was. So?” Draco egged her on. “Why do you care now?”

“I never _not_ cared. It just so happened to not be in the way that you wanted. The way that it should’ve been anyway,” Astoria added bitterly. She was sitting on the desk’s edge now and letting her legs dangle. Her sudden anger had disappeared again and a calm, yet subtle frustration was what remained. “Pureblood life, pureblood rules… They’re simple. You’re raised with strict, doting parents who show their care for you in varying degrees. You’re taught the proper way to be a lady or a gentleman, all with the understanding that one day you’ll have your significant other by betrothal unless you’re already seeing someone.

‘I care because our own parents were betrothed and yet they came to love each other. I care because out of everyone in our situation, we’re the only ones who’ve failed. I care because you managed to fall for that Weasley woman within months whereas with me...there was nothing.”

Draco bit the inside of his jaw before sacrificing his pride and moral high-ground and moving to sit next to Astoria on the desk. He cupped his hands, unsure of what to say at first until deciding not to mince words.

“Having affairs wasn’t going to make me love you,” Draco said bluntly. “You do realize this?”

“I do,” Astoria nodded. “Quite naively I once thought so. It was my mother’s suggestion, believe it or not. She told me that it ‘worked wonders’ to rein in my father. After I realized that it wouldn’t be the case with you I kept at it just to feel like someone cared about me. How pathetic is that?”

“Very.”

Astoria shot Draco the most hideous glare, but he was grinning from ear to ear. He then pushed himself off the desk with a small grunt and faced the witch. “Life doesn’t always turn out the way that you want, Astoria. I’m not saying that sometimes you shouldn’t fight for what you want, but sometimes the better option is to bow out and save yourself from hurt. This mess has hurt you, and very recently it hurt me. For both of our sakes I’m going to fix it.”

“How? My father told me that Monsieur Dupont already put in the extension.”

“He did. However, as my father liked to constantly repeat all my life, I’m a Malfoy and that name carries weight where it matters. It’s time to put that name to work.”

* * *

 

Draco strived for peace. It had been his dream ever since the war ended and he had done fairly well in maintaining it. Yes, it had been a bit lonely and isolating, but it was something that he had deemed worth the sacrifice. This whole divorce process had been threatening his peace and now it had been derailed in the most drastic fashion. It brought out a beast in him that he hadn’t felt in such a long time. However foreign and usually unwelcomed the feeling, he walked straight into the Daily Prophet’s headquarters and ignored every pair of eyes that landed on him. He also paid no mind to the various shouts of “You can’t go in there!” It probably would’ve made Hermione laugh.

Draco opened Karl Lashley’s office door and found that he wasn’t alone. There was someone else with him and, to put it mildly, the man looked like a train wreck. Two black eyes, his right arm in a sling, and a magi-splint on his left leg, anyone would think something had rammed into him. Draco suddenly scoffed and sneered.

“Your animagus form is a fly, yes?” Draco accused. The banged-up reporter shifted uneasily where he stood and that was enough confirmation for the blond. “It’s a shame Ms. Weasley didn’t do permanent damage when she swatted you.”

Karl cleared his throat where he stood behind his desk and casually stuffed his hands into his pockets. “Draco,” he greeted. “What brings you by?”

“You know damn well what brings me by. You had me followed.”

“On the contrary, your father-in-law enlisted my help, by the referral of your father, to have you followed. Any quarrels you should take up with them. Merlin knows that I will for the harm that came upon my reporter.”

“Oh, I’ll have a few words with them, no worries. Your part still isn’t finished here though.”

Karl raised a brow and then paused for a moment to let his reporter leave. Once he was gone he calmly asked, “Is that so?”

“Yes. Those photographs that your _insect_ took of me and Ms. Weasley are in the process of ruining my life.  You’re going to give an official statement to Monsieur Dupont, my divorce counselor, stating that those photographs are fake. Make up an excuse that they were doctored for a news story or some other nonsense. This way he’ll have grounds to retract the extension of my divorce from the French Ministry.”

“Why on earth would I do that?” Karl scoffed, eyes wide and disbelieving. “The Daily Prophet is a well-known media outlet in all of Europe. Ministries all over will call into question my business practices, my reporters… My best reporter may very well be released!”

“Your best reporter is a bloody snitch and I could give two shits about what happens to him or you, for that matter. My future is on the line, and now so is yours. Don’t do this and I promise that you’ll regret it.”

“Are you threatening me? Dear boy, I hope you know what you’re doing. He who runs the media can very well destroy anyone. I trust you know that from experience.”

“I do,” Draco nodded, “and I trust you that he who knows someone’s secrets can very well do the same.”

Karl stiffened for a moment and the brief moment pleased Draco more than he cared to admit.

“You should really refrain from drinking around my father. He may look off-balanced when drunk, but he remembers everything that a person says regardless. You made the mistake once by telling him your life story.

‘Raised by your grandparents in the poorest state imaginable. You barely made it through Hogwarts, various odd jobs afterwards because your OWL and NEWT scores were pitiful. You landed your first big break in media because you threatened to blackmail the agency’s owner, and you’ve been blackmailing and climbing yourself to the top ever since. Make no mistake, Mr. Lashley. It may have been an arduous journey getting to where you are but falling back to the bottom can come _very_ quickly. _I will make sure that happens._ ”

Silence filtered into the room as both men held each other's gaze. Despite the calm exterior, Draco's heart was hammering in his chest. He may have had dirt on the man courtesy of his father, but did that really matter? The media, as Karl had pointed out, was a powerful thing. People would believe what was written there regardless of how true it may have been. He could very well end Draco with just a few words, but then again, hadn't that already happened? Draco's name had been run through the ground more times than he could count and his divorce was being prolonged right at this moment. What did he have to lose?

“You know,” Karl began irritatedly, “Mr. Greengrass at least had the decency to pay me a hefty sum.”

“And I’m choosing blackmail,” Draco shrugged. “Figured you’d appreciate that more since it’s right up your alley.”

Karl glared at him murderously, but Draco didn't care. The blond watched the media mogul write the retraction about the photographs and send it off to the address Draco gave; an address that, to his horror, he already had. The letter would reach Monsieur Dupont by tonight, he imagined, but would that be enough? If the extension went through before it could be reversed it could take months to undo it, if at all.

As it stood now, Draco's happiness was hanging by a weak thread, and it pained him more than he could properly describe.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Draco just got his whole world shattered, and at the hands of family no less *sigh*.
> 
> Also, I must give MASSIVE kudos to juliep0123 on ffnet because she called it back in chapter 20 that there was something off about that fly!!! And, in case any of you missed it, the fly/reporter had been cropping up since chapter 19.
> 
> -WP


	23. Mending the Broken

Draco had chosen to apparate onto the massive property that was Malfoy Manor instead of Flooing. Risky since it was cross-country, but he feared what he might do or say if he saw his father once he got there. And what if Scorpius was nearby? His son didn't need to see him angry.

After spending endless minutes outside Draco finally entered his family home. Although it wasn't unusual to be met by a house elf when entering by the front door, it was  _very_  strange to be met by his own mother.

"Why are you waiting by the door?"

"Because you were, dear," Narcissa explained plainly. "Mipsy detected you outside and couldn't for her life understand why you didn't apparate or Floo in."

"I didn't want to curse my father on sight, that's why."

"Draco!"

"Where is he?"

"Draco, listen to me," Narcissa pleaded. She was trailing after her son after he walked around her through the foyer. "You mustn't be too upset with him."

"Oh, so you're privy to the  _wild_  invasion of privacy, are you?" Draco rounded on his mother before putting a foot on the stairs. "So much for being on my side."

"I didn't know about the spying until today and I  _promise_  you that your father heard an earful from me today. You should also know that sending those photographs of you and Ms. Weasley to Monsieur Dupont was entirely Ivan's idea. Your father was furious about that…" Narcissa added with a frown.

A bit of Draco's anger had escaped, leaving him deflated. With a sigh that sounded more like a frustrated groan he asked, calmly this time, "Where is he, Mother?"

"Out on the lanai with Scorpius."

Narcissa led the way while Draco followed. It was a lengthy trek, but they eventually made it to the lanai where Scorpius was busily telling his grandfather a story or something or another.

"Dad!" Scorpius shouted. Lucius' back was facing Draco and the younger Malfoy saw him flinch. It could have been from Scorpius' loud greeting, but Draco doubted it very much.

"Scorpius, I need you to go with your grandmother. Your grandfather and I need to talk."

"Is he in trouble? That's your 'in trouble' voice."

Draco didn't answer, but rather he gave his automatic " _Do as I said,"_  expression that lit a spark in the boy. Scorpius quickly headed to Narcissa who held out her hand to him. When they were gone Draco sat on a chair at an angle from his father, desperately wishing he had a drink to numb himself with.

"My life is down the shit creek because of you. Care to explain why?"

Lucius had the decency to look guilty. "Mabel?" He called to the air. "Two glasses and the strongest liquor we have in the Manor," he said to the creature when it appeared. It came back in record time and Lucius only answered Draco's question until after their drinks had been poured.

"Those photographs weren't meant for the purpose they were used for."

"There shouldn't have been any photographs at all," Draco reprimanded harshly. He drank his liquor down quickly, an aged Firefly Firewhiskey that could very well be burning a literal hole in his throat. "You had me and Granger followed and I deserve to know why."

"You do, and it was for purely selfish reasons," Lucius admitted. "After Ms. Weasley's admission and the conversation between you and your mother I became...worried about her place in your life. I was determined to find out more and weigh just how much this could have affected us."

"So you chose to have me followed instead of just  _asking?_  Excellent work there, Father. Top marks, truly."

"Would you have told me if I had asked?"

"Of course not," Draco snorted, to which Lucius replied with an non-vocalized, " _See?"_  and took a sip of his drink.

"Draco,-"

"No," he cut him off. "You don't get to ' _Draco'_  me when you're in the wrong. So concerned you were with status and and people's perception of you that you  _invaded my privacy_. My private life is in the hand of a media man of all people."

"Do you really think that I wanted such a thing in the hands of Karl Lashley? Hardly," Lucius scoffed. "One  _never_  hands over such information to someone like him. My arrangement was with the reporter himself, off the record."

"How did Astoria's father get involved then?"

"He came over unannounced one evening and saw a set that had been sent to me. They were innocuous, mind you. Dinners and such. It's now my understanding that Ivan went to Karl directly after seeing them and made his own arrangement. More 'incriminating' photographs and to send them to Monsieur Dupont for greater credibility."

Draco had long finished his drink and was now digging his thumb into his temple as his elbow rested on the chair's armrest. With his eyes held shut, he stayed like that for Merlin knew how long until snapping his eyes wide open at the two words his father had just said.

" _What did you just say?"_

Lucius, ever uncomfortable with wearing his heart on his sleeve, adjusted his collar and repeated, "I'm sorry."

"It's too late for to say that. The extension for my divorce is in process. I can only hope that Karl's retraction of the photographs will keep it from going through."

"Retraction?"

"Yes. I got him to write Monsieur Dupont denouncing their authenticity."

Lucius' brows rose high at that followed by a tilt of his head. "How did you get him to do that?"

"Blackmail," Draco nonchalantly replied, ignoring his father's stare, full of pride, and rose to his feet. "Just so you know, Granger is an exceptional woman, and one way or another I'm going to be with her. Whatever feelings you have about that, I suggest you get over it."

Draco didn't wait for his father's reply. He simply retreated from the lanai in search of his son so that they could go home.

* * *

"Theo!  _Theo!"_

Theo had had his head buried in a book while his godson was happily playing nearby. Draco had dropped him off a little while ago saying that he had an errand to run before heading home. Naturally Theo said yes, albeit curious as to what the errand was that it couldn't wait, and had been babysitting him since. Now Theo was hearing the boy's father calling for him in quite the frantic manner.

"I'll be right back, sport. You stay here until then."

"Why can't I come?" Scorpius asked with a frown. "I'm not going home?"

Theo smiled and gently ruffled his hair. "Of course you are. I just think your dad wants to talk to me first."

Scorpius, still frowning, nodded and kept on playing. Theo had set aside his book and left the room, making sure to put a Silencing Charm over it so the boy didn't hear anything. Theo followed the new shouts that echoed throughout his home until he found Draco with his left hand holding his right and his face contorted in agony.

"What the hell happened to you?"

"Broke my hand, might get sued, you know, the usual," Draco grunted as he raised his hand as best he could. "Put your Healer training to work and help a man out, yeah?"

"For Merlin's sake," Theo rolled his eyes. "Sit down and stop moving your hand so much."

Draco did as he said and plopped himself down onto the nearest armchair. That action had absolutely nothing to do with his hand, but it aggravated him anyway. Theo had whipped out his wand, summoning a health kit, and went over to the blond once he had it in his possession.

"You do realize that most of my Healer training is theoretical and not  _applied_  right?"

"And that's supposed to mean what?  _Damn it!_ " Draco swore as Theo handled his injury with Cooling Charms, a splint, and bandages.

"It means that you're going to have to go to St. Mungo's to get this finished looked at. What were you even doing to break your hand?"

"It's all the fault of Ivan bloody Greengrass… Man's got the hardest face I've ever punched in my life."

Theo's eyes widened times ten and he sat back on his heels. "You punched your father-in-law? What for? Not that the man is very likeable, but still…"

"It's a long story, but straight to the point: he paid the owner of The Daily Prophet to get the raunchiest and most incriminating photographs of me and Granger and had them sent to my marriage counselor. That gave him grounds to file an extension on my divorce."

"That's insane!"

"What's worse is that my father is the one who hired the photographer first. The rest of this messed up tale is still all Ivan's fault, but nonetheless…"

"Oh, Draco, mate… I'm sorry," Theo shook his head. "I see why you pummeled the man. Is there any way to stop the extension?"

"I blackmailed Karl Lashley, the owner, into saying the photographs were fake. I'm hoping it'll work, but I don't know."

"For yours and Granger's sake I sure hope so. In the meantime up you go. We have to find someone to watch Scorpius and then get you to St. Mungo's for that hand."

"I'm all up for a hospital trip, but why are we stashing my son somewhere instead of him coming along?" Draco asked as Theo helped him to his feet.

"You know good and well apparating and Flooing are both out of the question with your injury so we'll have to fly. You probably damaged it further getting over here, and as good as you are with a broom it's probably unwise to fly one-handed. So, where am I taking your kid?"

Draco sighed bitterly before giving in. "Granger's house will be fine so long as she's home. He'll be thrilled."

* * *

"What movie are we seeing tomorrow?" Hugo asked after slipping on his pyjama shirt. Hermione laughed when she realized that it was on backwards and helped him to right it.

"Despicable Me 2 since you all liked the first one so much. Then we'll go to dinner afterwards."

"Mr. Malfoy's not going to cook?" Rose asked from her bed. Hermione smiled inwardly and sent Hugo to sit on his bed once his shirt was on correctly.

"Not tomorrow, no. I can ask him for our next group pre-date, though. That sound fair?"

"Okay! I like when he cooks. It's the best day of the week."

"Hey, what about when I cook?" Hermione questioned with a faux frown. Rose glanced at her brother who pretended not to see her and Hermione shook her head with a wide grin. "The man's been cooking since January and suddenly he's a better chef than I am."

"Love you, mum," Rose innocently deflected.

"Oh yes, of course you do," Hermione teased. The lights suddenly flashed in the house along with the ring of a doorbell and she pursed her lips in confusion. "Alright guys, pick a book that you want me to read while I figure out who's trying to visit."

Hermione left the bedroom and headed downstairs to the living room. Whenever the lights flashed with a doorbell ring that meant someone was trying to come by Floo who didn't have access to her house. As expected, there was floating mouth in front of the fireplace (still utterly creepy whenever this happened) ready to deliver a message from her pending guest.

"Who is it?"

"Sorry to bother you, Granger," the mouth began to speak, and Hermione was thoroughly surprised to hear Theo's voice come out of it. "Do you mind opening your Floo? Something's come up and I have to drop Scorpius off for a bit."

At hearing the last part Hermione wasted no time in adjusting her Floo connection and opening it. The fireplace quickly erupted in green flames and both Theo and Scorpius popped out.

"Thanks for the access. You've got a tiny houseguest," Theo smiled as he nodded downwards.

"I can see that," Hermione's grinned at Scorpius who had waved enthusiastically. "Not that it's not great to see you," she added to Theo, "but I would've expected his father to bring him."

"My dad broke his hand," Scorpius informed her and the bottom half of her mouth dropped.

" _He what?"_

"Why don't you run along and find your mates," Theo suggested to Scorpius who excitedly ran through through house after Hermione told him that Rose and Hugo were in their room. Once he was gone Hermione finally got to express her true surprise.

"How on earth did Malfoy break his hand?!"

"Honestly? That's a story he'll have to be the one to tell you."

"Well, I don't like the sound of that," Hermione frowned. She sighed before taking a moment to massage the bridge of her nose. "Just tell me if the fight, for I can only assume it was one, was justified."

"Completely, and a long time coming, I assure you," Theo nodded. "I'm going to fly Draco to St. Mungo's. His hand is in a splint I made for him, but he still needs to get it checked."

"Yes, yes, of course," Hermione agreed. "He should definitely see someone, not to mention drink at least two tablespoons of Skele-Repair."

Theo briefly smiled. "Healer training?"

"War."

"Oh," Theo pursed his lips, quickly kicking himself. "I guess I'd better get back to him."

Hermione watched as Theo stepped into the fireplace, Floo Powder in hand and ready to go, but she stopped him before he could return to his home.

"Thank you for taking care of him."

Theo's gaze softened towards the witch and he slowly shook his head. "I should be the one doing the thank you. Draco...hasn't had it easy. I may have said it in jest the night we had dinner, but you really have been good for him. I'm glad that you found each other."

"So am I."

* * *

Skele-Repair tasted horrible and the pain was excruciating. Luckily a Healer had given Draco a potion for pain which should help him sleep through the night. His hand should be better within three days which was fortunate considering how much he had aggravated it while Flooing to Theo's. It was curious too, his managing to Floo from the Greengrass household. It meant that Daphne had never removed Theo's access to the house while she was still living there. Quite curious indeed.

With a sigh Draco exited Hermione's fireplace at some ghastly one in the morning because tonight seemed to be the night for magical accidents and a duel between a man and his ex's new boyfriend. He found Hermione asleep on the couch and he stared at her for countless minutes before she began to stir. It took a couple blinks and one good stretch before Hermione realized that he was there and she seemed relieved to see him.

"Are you okay?"

Draco glanced at his hand once and shrugged. "Could be worse. Scorpius?"

"Last I checked he was enjoying the impromptu sleepover," Hermione grinned. "Do you want to talk about why you had to go to the hospital tonight?"

"Not really, but we should," Draco answered honestly. "Preferably over a glass of Firewhiskey."

"An unwise choice with children in the house, but I won't deprive you a touch with tea," Hermione told him as she rose to her feet. Draco followed her into the kitchen and sat at the table with a loud groan. Hermione glanced back at him, concern clearly written on her face, and sat down in front of him once the kettle was on the stove.

"Alright, mister. What happened?"

"Long version or short?"

"Short. You can explain the extraneous detail if need be."

Draco knew he was going to have to explain those details anyway, but acquiesced to her request. "I punched my father-in-law in face tonight after finding out that he sent photographs of us to the owner of the Daily Prophet."

Hermione's mouth flopped open and she looked both outraged and highly embarrassed. "Photographs? How did he get them? What...did they show?"

"Most were decent if that means anything."

"Then others were not," Hermione huffed. "That's an utter invasion of privacy! Why? And again  _how?_

"Ah, that's where the story gets even more interesting," Draco smiled bitterly. "My father had us followed," he answered her as he got up to tend to the screaming kettle. "And then my father-in-law did the same for more intimate snapshots."

"They had us  _followed?!_ "

"Yes. That fly you were so thrilled to swat the other night? It was a Daily Prophet reporter in an animagus form."

"That's outrageous!" Hermione fumed. "I have half a mind to do a little punching myself!"

"And break your hand?" Draco chuckled.

"I think I can avoid a boxer's fracture with the proper charms in place beforehand."

"How do you know that I have a…? Oh never mind," Draco rolled his eyes. He passed her a cup of tea with his good hand before going back for his own and sitting back down. "Regardless, that's why I broke my hand. I told off my father and ruined my father-in-law's face. Not that it could get any worse…"

"So much for my rant on you controlling your anger," Hermione huffed. "How could two people be so terrible? Granted, I'm less concerned about that and more for the fact that your father-in-law is involved." She sighed, tracing the rim of her cup with her finger before continuing softly, "No one is supposed to know that we're seeing each other. This could ruin everything."

Draco's face fell instantly. He tried to control it, he truly did, but it was a lost cause. Hermione saw it the moment the muscles in his face loosened and soon hers did the same.

"Malfoy," Hermione said tentatively. "Please tell me that it didn't?  _Please_  tell me that those photographs didn't do what I think they did?"

Draco frowned and his head dropped. He couldn't look at her as he answered, "They were sent to my marriage counselor. My divorce is in the process of getting extended."

Hermione felt everything constrict. Her throat, her chest, her stomach… Although this situation was more dire for Draco, she couldn't help but feel the most pain for herself. Yet another person to be taken away from her life, even if he wouldn't physically be gone.

"I'm sorry," Hermione blurted out. "We should've waited. If we had then none of this-"

"Don't you dare apologize for something that you didn't do," Draco snapped sternly. "This is the fault of insecure and petty people. It has  _nothing_  to do with you."

"But your divorce-"

"Is still possible."

"Possible?"

"Yeah, I… _might_ have used a bit of blackmail to discredit the photographs," Draco admitted, guilt appearing in the form of heat rising to his cheeks. He had expected some sort of scolding for using such tactics, but got nothing. "No words of disapproval?"

"I once held Rita Skeeter captive in a jar for spying on me and my friends while in an animagus form," Hermione shrugged. "Trust me, you'll find nothing but approval from me."

It got quiet then, and no one said or did anything for an obscenely long time. What more was there to say or do?

"Can I sleep on your couch?" Draco asked after a while. Hermione analyzed him, and she couldn't tell if he was tired because it was late or tired because of life.

"No," she replied as she rose from her seat. "You need a bed, not a couch. Come on."

Draco followed Hermione out of the kitchen and upstairs one exhausted footstep at a time. She was at a bit of distance ahead of him, and he watched her cast a spell on her children's bedroom door. It was one that he recognized would alert her when the occupants inside were stirring awake. When finished she continued down the hall, and Draco furrowed his brow when he realized that Hermione had stopped in front of her bedroom door and not to the guest bedroom two doors down.

She opened it, urged him with her head, and went inside. Hesitant at first, Draco went in, and the bed's blankets were pulled back on both sides. Hermione wasn't in bed, but she was holding something in her hands. "Clutching desperately" was a better way to say it really. He watched her take the deepest breath of her life before walking over to him and holding out a set of pajamas.

"You can sleep in these."

Ron's pajamas.

It could have belonged to no one else but him, and Hermione was giving it to him. Draco knew better than to address this moment, for he could see how much effort it took for her to do. Regardless, she had done it, and he was proud of her.

Draco waited until Hermione was in bed to dress (awkwardly at that, considering his hand). When finished, he climbed into bed and nearly died of elation when Hermione reached back for his arm and wrapped it around her. That was how they slept, and it was the best rest either of them had gotten in a very long time.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I LOVE THE ENDING!! It's so simple, but it showed so much strength on Hermione's part. Draco's hand isn't the only thing that's "mending" :).
> 
> Also, it's gotten to that point folks where I can (hate to say this) see the end of the story coming. I can't say when exactly, but I do have everything planned out. So, until then, happy reading!
> 
> -WP


	24. Chess in Real Life

_July 12th, 2013_

To call the past week "rough" would be an understatement. Despite waking up last Saturday with Hermione cuddled in his arms there had still been a dread in Draco's heart. It didn't help that there had been an owl perched on the window sill with a letter from Monsieur Dupont. He had "apologized" for what had happened and didn't realize that the photographs were doctored. Draco had doubted very much that he believed such a thing, but unless the man wanted his entire office covered in flames and smoke there had been no other choice.

A request for the extension put on his divorce to be annulled had been made, but as it was the weekend only a new week would tell of the outcome. When that new week had come, Draco had been informed that as the extension had already begun processing, it needed to follow through. Once processed, only then could an annulment of the extension could be put into motion. Draco had no idea what would happen then, honestly. It might be easy. The divorce would be on track again and by next month he'd be a free man as originally planned. It could also be extremely difficult and an investigation into why there needed to be an annulment might occur. Draco could just imagine the whirlwind  _that_  would cause. The department would want to know why, the photographs would come into play (as well as their origin), and an investigation into The Daily Prophet would happen like Karl feared.

Merlin forbid if that was the outcome.

Draco tried his best not to think about it. He and Hermione had agreed that going out in public together in the interim, no matter how remote the location, was now a no-go. That didn't mean they would stop seeing each other, however. People tended to grow closer to one another in times of hardship, and this was no different. She kept him grounded and he kept her sane. They needed each other, and they weren't going to let anyone or anything stop that.

Besides, he had other things to worry about at the moment.

"I'm sorry that my meeting is cutting into our time together," Draco said as he adjusted his shirt collar.

"That's…! Okay…!" Scorpius said with a wide smile. He was jumping on his father's bed as his dad was putting on the finishing touches on his clothing. "I get…! To go…! To…! Rose and Hugo's house…!"

"Yes, you do. Just try not to drive their mum crazy, alright?"

"I could never do that." Scorpius had just given his final jump and was now sitting quietly on the bed. "I like her. If you like somebody you don't do anything to upset them."

Draco looked over at his son and failed miserably to contain the admiration he felt for him. He happily sighed and crossed his arms over his chest.

"When did you get so smart?"

"I don't know," Scorpius shrugged. "Mum says it's a blessing and a curse, whatever that means. Can we go now?"

"Yes, we can go," Draco laughed as he picked up his a briefcase from the floor. He held out his free hand for his son who hopped off the bed and grabbed it. They headed to one of the fireplaces down the hall and Draco gave Scorpius the honors of letting the Floo Powder drop while he said their destination.

They came out of Hermione's fireplace as per usual and they were met with a slightly different arrangement of the living room than they were accustomed to seeing. The armchair usually to the left had been moved out of the way, the coffee table missing, and the couch pushed a bit further back. It created just enough room for two easels to stand next to each other.

Once Scorpius recognized the setup his face lit up like he had just walked into Zonko's Joke Shop. "PICTIONARY!"

"Scorpius! Come into the kitchen!" Rose's shout came from a distance. Scorpius took off at a sprint. So familiar he was with this house that he could walk it blind at this point. Draco followed after him and he leaned against the doorway as he watched the festive culinary scene.

First and foremost, it smelled like a candy shop. There were tons of sweets in bowls on the table (which threw Draco for a loop considering the teeth enthusiasts Hermione had for parents), there were various pastries on the table, and two pitchers of what may have been pumpkin juice. What made the sight amazing was that they were  _still_  cooking.

"Ah, Scorpius you came right on time!" Hermione said once she saw him. Her hands were covered in flour but she walked out from behind the counter and hugged him anyway. "You can help Hugo put chocolate chips in the batter."

"When are we playing pictionary?"

Hermione laughed and gently pinched his cheek. "As soon as these go in the oven and we put everything else out front."

Draco cleared his throat loudly to gather Hermione's attention and she smiled broadly.

"I didn't forget about you," she reassured.

"Are you sure?" Draco chuckled. "Everyone here has sweets but me."

Hermione laughed loudly before walking over and kissing Draco on the cheek. "There. Now you do too."

Draco's face was redder than an apple and he didn't miss the looks on the kids' faces as they giggled and failed to pretend that they didn't see anything.

"Very cute," he sheepishly replied. "Also, thank you for saving that horrid game for a night when I couldn't attend."

"Just because you don't know how to properly draw a cauldron doesn't mean that the game is horrid."

"Excuse me! My cauldron was perfect."

"Oh yes, so perfect that neither I nor three sets of youthful eyes could figure out what it was," Hermione teased.

Draco huffed and refused to comment. Instead he glanced at his watch, realizing that he had about fifteen minutes before his meeting, and put his serious face on.

"I have to get going."

"Okay," Hermione nodded, moving to flatten down his collar more, but stopping herself once she remembered her flour-covered hands. "I'm sure that you'll blow Mr. Nesby away with whatever project it is that you have to show him."

Draco admired her faith in him. It also helped that all the times he brought her down to her lab, memories slowly wiped each time, Hermione had praised every one of his works. It was certainly a solidified confidence boost knowing that her faith in him was justified.

As the parents bid their goodbyes, the kids continued at their task although Scorpius was a bit distracted.

"It's so weird," Scorpius said as he eyed his father. Rose looked up from her stirring of the cookie batter and tilted her head.

"What is?"

"My dad. I've never seen him so... _mushy_  before."

Rose giggled into her hands and glanced at her mother. "It's because he likes our mum. Our dad was like that too before he passed away."

"Your dad was never mushy with your mum?" Hugo asked. Scorpius barely had to think before he let out a snort.

"No. They never liked each other. They just liked me."

"Oh," Hugo frowned. "Sorry."

"It's okay. My mum's always liked other people, and now my dad likes your mum."

"It doesn't bother you that your mum and dad don't like each other?"

Scorpius was about to answer, but he paused instead. For as long as he could remember his parents had never been the "gooey" kind. He couldn't remember a time when they said "I love you," unless it was to him. Hugs were nonexistent unless it was he who they were hugging. The longer they were in close range, his mum always seemed angry and his dad… His dad was always sad. His mum was happier when it was just "mother-son time" or when she was with a new friend. As for his father, unless he and his dad were together, it wasn't until lately that he was a lot happier. Even though Scorpius was a kid he still knew that Ms. Weasley was the reason why his dad wasn't sad anymore.

"They're better not together," Scorpius finally answered, and he went back to sprinkling chocolate chips into the batter.

* * *

When Draco had arranged for his meeting to meet Mr. Nesby during the month of July, he had expected a meeting with several board members, other employees, or something else of the like. As it turned out, he would be meeting with Mr. Nesby and that's all. While not entirely unusual,the fact that the meeting was taking place after work hours  _was_. The logical side of Draco (the side that he could boldly admit was heavily influenced by Hermione) was telling him not to think anything of it. However, the hyper vigilant (and possibly paranoid) side of him was saying that this meeting could turn on its side very quickly the moment Draco knocked and opened the office door.

"Mr. Nesby?"

"Mr. Malfoy!" Mr. Nesby greeted enthusiastically. He had been writing at his desk, but had looked up once he had heard the knock on his door. "I'm glad that you could make it. Sit, please."

Draco closed the door after himself and adjusted his tie before heading over to Mr. Nesby's desk. It had been cleared away in seconds and Draco tentatively set his briefcase on the side.

"Your letters on the progress of your work have sounded very promising," Mr. Nesby told him. "Knowing that your project is complete is astounding. And in such little time too!"

"Thank you, sir," Draco smiled. He took his time in taking out similar items he had once shown Hermione. His potion and a damaged liver this time rather than a kidney. "As we both know, despite being primarily for the purposes of repairing bones, Skelerepair also has a side effect of repairing organs. My alterations, as I've said before, make those side effects main ones."

Draco carefully added two drops of his potion on the damaged liver and both he and Mr. Nesby watched in anticipation as the potion caused the liver to glow just a tad blue before it began mending itself. It didn't take long before all of the obvious scarring had disappeared.

"Extraordinary… Absolutely extraordinary!" Mr. Nesby raved. "It's one thing to describe it in your correspondences, but even better to have seen it in person. Mr. Malfoy, you've set this company forward  _years_  with your work. I think the rest of the department will be thrilled to see it; it'll have to be presented to them as well, of course."

"Of course," Draco beamed. "When would you like me to come back?"

"Ah, about that. There wouldn't be a need for you to come back to the office."

Draco reined in the furrowing of his brow at that before casually raising a brow and asking a calm, "There isn't? How come?"

There it was: the tension. The past few minutes had been going be swimmingly, but here was the awkward that Draco had been waiting for.

"There should be a presentation to the rest of the department, yes, but there'll be a  _minor_  tweak."

"What  _kind_  of tweak exactly?"

"I'd like to use a stand-in for you."

Draco blinked so rapidly that anyone would've thought it to be a natural flutter. "A  _stand-in?_  To present  _my_  work?"

"That's right," Mr. Nesby nodded. He gave a friendly smile too, but it was met with Draco's disbelief and the struggle to maintain his composure. "You see, Mr. Malfoy, many of the employees within the health sector were touched by the rather recent war either directly or indirectly. It's why they've turned to health," he added gently. "Being who you are, my employees won't take kind to you being here. It's best if they continue to stay in the dark. You've been working on your own just fine all this time. I see no reason to change anything now."

"No reason to change anything?" Draco scoffed. " _Of course_  there's a reason to change things! It's one thing to work on your own, but it's completely different when you want someone else to take credit for the months of work I put in. I'm not doing it."

"'Not' is a very strong word, Mr. Malfoy. I implore you to reconsider."

"I'm  _not_  doing it."

If a knife had sliced through the air it would stick in the tension. Draco was snarling at this point, and he couldn't remember the last time he had been so… So what? Angry was too demure of a term and so was disgruntled. However, this was an expression he had spent years without until recently. Monsieur Dupont had been the crack in the dam, letting water slowly leak, his father-in-law had been the break, and now a river of quiet rage was sweeping what was left of his civility.

Despite that, Draco behaved himself quite well and he adjusted his cufflinks and tie before replying, "If this is how you plan future dealings with me then I quit."

"I'm sorry that you feel that way," Mr. Nesby sighed, "but yes, that is my intention."

Draco nodded and reached over to put away his experimental demonstration when Mr. Nesby stopped him.

"This stays," he said calmly. "Per your contractual agreement with us any work completed with McGregor backing belongs to us."

Draco felt his stomach turn and he looked away from Mr. Nesby and down at the project he had began the moment he took up work with McGregor's. He had spent hours upon hours with it for  _months_  just for it to be taken away.

With a deep breath Draco picked up his briefcase and stood, refusing to give Mr. Nesby any final words or giving a last glance at his hard work so freely given away. Instead, he went home. He casually walked out of his fireplace, into a living room bathed in darkness, at a loss of what to do.

He could always scream. One good yell would get out all of his frustration at the fact that everything in his life wanted to curtail left and leave him stranded. He could sit in his quiet room with something from his expensive stores and let it blur the last half an hour away from his memory. Merlin knows that he's done that plenty of times before, but as he had once admitted to himself, hangovers were getting worse the older he got. Throw in a seven-year-old who'd be with him for the whole weekend and that wasn't a very good combination.

Draco sighed then, choosing to accept what was, and threw his briefcase onto the nearest armchair as he plopped himself down onto his couch. He slipped off his tie and jacket, and flicked open the first three buttons of his shirt before stretching out with a satisfied groan with the full intention of being dead to the world. He had hoped to do that for at least the next four hours, but when he unexpectedly opened his eyes, not realizing that he had, indeed, fallen asleep, it had only been two. He may have slept longer were it not for the mass of green light illuminating his dark living room.

"How did it go?" Hermione eagerly asked him. Even colored green and in the form of flickering flames she still warmed his heart (all possible puns intended).

"I quit."

Hermione's head disappeared from the fireplace and Draco knew what was coming next. He took a moment to sit upright and retrieved his wand from the inside of his jacket to turn on the lights. His witch was in his house now and her concern for him was radiating tremendously.

"Kids being babysat by the television?"

"Ginny and George," Hermione said. "They brought their own kids for the game night. What happened with the presentation that you quit?"

"Mr. Nesby doesn't want a former Deatheater in the line of sight of his employees."

" _He said that to you?!_ "

"Not in so many words," Draco shrugged, stretched, and urged Hermione to sit with him before he started recalling things that he had once told her, but she didn't remember. "My work with McGregor's came with the condition that no one would know that I worked for the company except Mr. Nesby and Theo."

"And you  _agreed_  to that?" Hermione gasped. "Malfoy, they hid you. That's not something that you should have accepted."

Draco smiled, this conversation ever familiar, and he gently nodded. "I know that now. At the time it was preferred seeing as being around other people made me...uncomfortable, to say the least. Well, despite creating a potion that Mr. Nesby's thrilled about and wants presented to others in the department, he wants someone else to do it. A stand-in to pretend that the work is theirs."

"Because of what? A couple people don't have the balls to realize that the past is the past?" Hermione scoffed. "You were right to quit. I'm just sorry that you had to."

"I'm sorry for  _all_  of the things that I 'had to do,'" Draco amended. He leaned back onto his couch, the backrest cradling his neck as he stared up at the ceiling. "My life has been nothing but things that I  _had_  to do either because someone told me to or because I was vying for peace of mind. But, to hell with that and everything that's happened recently. I have my son, I have you, and your children are too precious for words. What?"

Draco had looked over at Hermione whose expression was hard to place. It was a mixture of surprise, admiration, and relief all mixed into one. He couldn't refrain from letting his lips turn upwards. "Hermione, love, I think your face is stuck."

Hermione's face instantly relaxed and a blush accompanied it. "Sorry. I was just… I'm really proud of you. And you just used my given name," she added with a chuckle. "Now I'm really  _really_  proud of you."

"Yeah? I think I'll use it more often then, if you don't mind."

Hermione's face could barely contain her smile. Before she could reply, however, the fireplace suddenly ignited and Theo came stomping out of it.

"Draco! I won't stand for it!" He announced as he paced the living room. "Mr. Nesby owled me and told me what happened. What he proposed was outrageous! It's ridiculous! Horrendous! Just-! Granger, were you always here?"

Hermione giggled before turning to Draco and asking in jest, "Does this make Theo oblivious or me just easy to miss?"

"Oblivious. It's quite hard to ignore you," Draco added in a tender touch before looking back at his red-in-the-face best friend. "You were saying?"

Theo laughed in embarrassment and ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry. I was a bit upset."

"Clearly," Hermione cheekily agreed. "What happened tonight was awful."

"You can say that again. It's a good thing we thought of a Plan B, eh Draco?"

"Plan B?" Hermione echoed as she observed Theo's wide smile and Draco's happy tilt of his head. They both reassembled pretty devils like this and it was both cute and terrifying.

"The moment Mr. Nesby suggested that Draco do hidden contract work we were afraid something like this would happen. That's why we made a backup plan."

"The contract that I had with McGregor's meant that everything they funded that I worked on essentially belongs to them," Draco explained to her. "I had three projects working on, but only  _one_  of those projects was funded by McGregor's. Everything else came out of my own expenses, meaning that they're solely mine. They can't take them no matter how hard they try."

"And they'll  _definitely_  try," Theo piled on as he nudged his head towards Draco. "Your boyfriend here kept the best research for himself, excluding one that I'm in the process of helping him get patented. We made sure that he had the right permits in place to do research on his own, hired a solicitor to make sure Draco had a winnable case should it come to that, and I saved my money down to the knut for when it came time for me to quit."

"You quit?" Hermione choked.

"Of course. I can't help run Mallot's Research Corporation while working at McGregor's, now can I?"

"We're still running with that name?" Draco questioned with a turned up nose. Theo shrugged.

"Might as well. Any other combination of our names is just ghastly. What's the matter, Granger?"

"Nothing," Draco answered for her. "That's her 'I'm proud of you' face."

Hermione stared between Theo and Draco repeatedly before she eventually threw her hands in the air. "Hogwarts or no Hogwarts, this was the most Slytherin thing either of you could've ever done."

Draco laughed and pulled Hermione onto his lap, ignoring all sorts of giggled protests and Theo's amused smirk. Yes, it had been cunning at its finest, and a fine move on his part, if he didn't say so himself. Mr. Nesby may have won the battle tonight, but the war was Draco's.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: Feels good to post again! As many of you know, my internet was crap. I hated having to miss a week, but at least my internet is back. As for the story, Draco (and Theo) has proved why he was put into Slytherin in the first place. Gotta love him!
> 
> Now, for Scorpius. Yet again I have put a little of myself into this story, so here's a small bit about me. My mother once asked me if I ever thought about/wanted her and my father back together. I laughed and said no. I have no recollection of them ever saying "I love you" or being the least bit affectionate. Just arguments. I truly did prefer them not to be together. Parents may want to stay together for the kids, but sometimes it does more harm than good.
> 
> -WP


	25. Unofficially Official

_July 17th, 2013_

Every day around three or four Draco had the privilege to Floo with Scorpius. Each chat was a new adventure and he'd listen to his son tell him what happened in the last twenty-four hours since they last spoke. Usually it was about something he'd built with his Legos, or what he and his mother had gotten up to, or that his grandparents had stopped by for dinner. Today, however, Draco was met with news that was far different from the norm.

“Dad! I did accidental magic today!”

“You did? That's great!” Draco said ecstatically. He was also relieved. The longer it took for Scorpius to show signs of his magic the more Draco thought that his son might be a squib. Bullet dodged there.

“Can I go to the Young Wizard’s Learning Center with Hugo and Rose?”

Draco's face nearly faltered. “What?”

“Can I, dad? I really want to be with my friends and tutors are so _boring._ ”

In a rare moment, Draco was truly at a loss for words. It didn't help any that Scorpius was waiting for a response, his face the very definition of pure joy and excitement. But what could he say? It wasn't a decision that he could easily make, nor one that he could make on his own. And yet here was his son, eagerly awaiting the answer that would make him bounce off the walls.

“I… I'll talk to your mother about it.”

“Okay!” Scorpius said happily. “Talk to her fast though. Love you, dad!”

“Love you too.”

Draco pulled his head out of his fireplace, his neck, back, and knees all hurting him, but it could've very well been worsened by the dilemma now at his feet.

As a doting and perhaps too giving of a father Draco had very few qualms about giving Scorpius what he wanted. His request, however, was bigger than just buying a toy or tickets to a show. If he went to school with Rose and Hugo there was no doubt that Scorpius would have to leave France. Would Astoria want to move? If not, would she agree to letting Scorpius live with him?

So many questions. So many alternatives. Scorpius had no idea what he just asked for and it was nerve-wracking. Even then, the next problem to cross his path was bigger than that. An owl had just perched itself on his lounge's fireplace, and from the brief view of the seal on the letter in the bird's beak Draco could see that it was a Ministry or letter. _The French_ Ministry.

Draco gulped before going over to the window and taking the letter from the creature. The contents of the letter in his hand could either break or heal him, and he was terrified to find out which route it would lead him. With a deep breath he ripped the envelope open to find both an English and French version inside.  Regardless of the version, the contents still made his stomach turn.

_Dear Monsieur Malfoy,_

_At the request of the Mme. Hélène Pierre, Head of the Judiciary subset of the Department of Marriage and Divorce, please come to our offices for a meeting at five this evening to discuss your divorce proceedings._

_Sincerely,_

_Fran çoise Rose_

_Senior Secretary, Judiciary Division of the Department of Marriage and Divorce_

Draco checked his watch and found that he had a little less than an hour before the meeting. Still in good time, he took ample Floo Powder and went straight to Astoria's, making it only the second time in this past year he'd been back to the house.

“Linky!” Draco called to the air. The house elf appeared at his feet and bowed.

“What can Linky do for Master Malfoy?”

“Tell me where Astoria is.”

“Dad!”

Draco turned and a smile replaced his anxious disposition as Scorpius ran down the stairs. He hopped off the last one and wrapped his arms around his father's legs once he was close enough.

“I thought I heard you,” he said happily before looking up.

“You've got ears like a hawk, kid.”

“You also shouted.”

“True,” Draco laughed. “Where's your mum?”

“Owlery,” Scorpius replied as he grabbed his dad's hand and pulled him along. “An owl came for her.”

_Not an isolated event, it seems…_ Draco mused to himself as he followed his son through the house and to the owlery. When they got there the older blond saw that Astoria had the same look of confusion and anxiety that he did.

“Mum, dad's here.”

Astoria looked up and sighed deeply. “Scorpius, go to your room, please.”

Scorpius obeyed and ran off. Once he was out of earshot Astoria gestured to the letter in her hand.

“I'm not the only one being summoned then, hm?”

“No.”

“And you rushed over here thinking that I had something to do with it, did you?”

Draco did his utmost not to feel or look offended and just shook his head. “I just came to see if you got the same notice. It's _our_ marriage that they want to talk about.”

Astoria still eyed him suspiciously, but let it go and folded the letter back into its envelope. “We'll have to leave Scorpius with someone.”

“My parents are away for the week and Theo’s venue shopping with Franny.”

“He can stay with my parents then.”

Merely hearing that made Draco’s insides shrivel. He would much rather leave Scorpius with Hermione. Hell, he would even leave him with George Weasley. Draco couldn't tell if that last bit was a testament to how much he hated his father-in-law or if he was, reluctantly, admitting that the goofy redhead was a good babysitter. However, to avoid a row he went along with it and both he and Astoria gathered Scorpius from his room to take him over to the Greengrass residence. As luck would have it, Ivan Greengrass was walking across the foyer and Scorpius’ joyful shout stopped the man in his tracks.

“Grandpa, hi!” Scorpius said happily. Ivan smiled at him and welcomed his hug as he always did when he spotted his grandson.

“Wonderful to see you as always,” Ivan replied joyfully. “Why don’t you run along to play and I’ll be there soon?”

Scorpius acquiesced rather quickly and ran off into the house to his bedroom. Once he was gone, Ivan turned to the boy’s parents. His gaze lingered on Draco longer than he had meant to and the blond greeted him ecstatically.

“Ivan! How's the face?”

“Draco!” Astoria hissed, but the sudden anger displayed by the man was well worth her scolding. Ivan ignored the quip and addressed his daughter.

“I didn’t know that you were bringing Scorpius by today.”

“It’s an impromptu drop off,” Astoria told him. “The Ministry summoned us.”

“Oh? What for?”

“Marriage matters,” Draco answered. “For your sake it better turn out in our favor.”

“You mean _your_ favor,” Ivan huffed. “You’re the only one who wants your marriage to end, and you seem perfectly happy with ruining my daughter’s life.”

“Father, stop,” Astoria ordered. “I don’t want a fight between you two which I’m sure would end up in a St. Mungo’s trip _again._ Just watch Scorpius for us, please?”

It was clear that Ivan wanted to argue some more, but he relented for his daughter’s sake. Draco watched him walk off before turning to Astoria who had already left his side. It wasn’t until he turned fully around that he found his wife at the fireplace with Floo Powder already in her hand.

“Are you coming?”

Draco followed her into the fireplace and they went back to her house for a brief moment. Summons such as they had received allowed for Flooing from one's home, and so that's what they did. They walked out into a moderately busy atrium and took their time in making their way to the Department of Marriage and Divorce. Draco didn't know about Astoria, but being here brought back vivid memories for him. Around this time last year they had been walking through this department's doors so that they could file for divorce. Here they were yet again to discuss the same matter, although the outcome was nothing but uncertain.

“Pardon,” Draco addressed the receptionist. “Je m’appelle Draco Malfoy. Ma femme et moi avons un rendez-vous avec Madame Hélène Pierre à cinq heures.”

“Merci de venir. Vous pouvez s’asseoir pour l’instant.”

Draco nodded and sat down on one of the chairs against the wall, urging Astoria to do the same. They waited an agonizing fifteen minutes in silence before they heard the sound of heels clacking their way down an adjacent hall.

“Monsieur et Madame Malfoy?” A woman at least a full decade older than the couple addressed.

“Yes,” Draco replied in English. The woman gently smiled and cleared her throat before walking over with an outstretched hand.

“A pleasure to meet you. I'm Madame Pierre. You both may follow me.”

Madame Pierre headed back down the hallway she had come from and Draco and Astoria followed close behind. The woman’s office was at the end of the hall, and were it not for the serious matter that they were about to discuss, Draco would have engaged her in a conversation about how well-decorated her office was. A massive, dark wooded desk, high-quality royal blue curtains held with gold tie-backs, a chaise longue on the right side of the office next to an ornately designed bookshelf, and a granite fireplace to their left. Very well-decorated indeed.

“Thank you for coming on such a short notice,” Madame Pierre said as she sat down and gestured for the couple to do the same. “It was far more efficient to do this face to face rather than by other means.”

“I assume that this is about the extension on our divorce?” Astoria tentatively brought up. Madame Pierre gave a gentle nod and cupped her hands on her desk.

“Yes, it is. Normally the matters of this office are limited to setting divorce parameters such as requiring counseling sessions before a divorce goes through. Other matters include expediting divorces and extending the process. Considering the rather…unusual circumstances that the extension of your divorce was initially filed, I’ve decided to handle the matter personally rather than to leave it to your marriage counselor.”

Draco’s back straightened and brows furrowed as he attempted to understand what he _thought_ was happening here. “Excuse me, but when you say that you’ll be handling the matter ‘personally,’ what does that mean exactly?”

“It means that after our meeting today _I’ll_ be the one to decide if your divorce should be extended or not.”

Draco and Astoria exchanged looks with each other for the briefest of moments. From the cursory glance Astoria was as white as a sheet. Draco had no idea what his facial expression was at the moment, but he was very aware of his insides. His heart was erratic. His throat and tongue were dry. Was he even properly breathing?

“Shall we begin?”

“Yes,” Draco answered, and Madame Pierre wasted no time in dropping the first major bomb in their discourse.

“I’ve reviewed your file, Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy.” Madame Pierre did, indeed, have a file on her desk and Draco could see his and Astoria’s name written clearly on the side as she opened it. “The terms of your divorce process was a year separation, during the which you were to have one counseling session a month, on the first Friday of the month. During this time you were both disallowed from seeing other people in order to avoid competing emotions while attempting to work out your current ones. I spoke with Monsieur Dupont myself and it appears that your divorce was extended due infidelity on your part, Mr. Malfoy, with photographs as proof. May I ask who was the witch in question?”

With both Madame Pierre’s and Astoria’s eyes on him, Draco very much felt attacked. His gut instinct was to lie. He desperately wanted to say that Hermione was nothing more than just a friend to him, but even just the thought of it made him sick to his stomach. However, he knew that he had to do what was necessary if he had any chance of coming out on top.

“The mother of my son’s friends.”

“I see. And are you two close? As close as the photographs insinuated, I should say?”

“Those photographs were doctored.”

“Let’s pretend that they aren’t,” Madame Pierre smiled gently. “If you had to describe your relationship, platonic or otherwise, with your son’s friends’ mother, what would you say?”

“I like her as a person, but there's nothing more than that. We communicate because my son and her children are friends. That's all.”

The snort that broke the sound barrier nearly rocked Draco from his seat. Even Madame Pierre looked frazzled, and both of them turned to Astoria who had settled into a fit of giggles.

“I'm sorry, Mrs. Malfoy, but what's funny?” Madame questioned. Astoria laughed for a few more minutes before she was finally able to answer.

“My husband is,” she told her. “He and Ms. Weasley, the children's mother, may have started out platonically, but they're anything but now.”

As one rarely to wear his emotions on his sleeve, Draco was coming close to breaking. Hell, he _had_ broken. His face had shattered and his heart may have even stopped. The chair had become numb beneath him, and he swore he tasted salt at the corners of his mouth. He should be embarrassed, but he wasn't. Astoria had just single-handedly ruined his life.

“He looks at her in a way that he's never done with me, nor ever will,” Astoria continued. She paused for a moment to take a deep breath before adding, “I've done the same with a gentleman I had been seeing during our separation.”

Draco's eyes widened in shock, but he doubted Astoria could see him. She seemed very determined to avoid looking at him at all costs.

“You were seeing someone as well?” Madame Pierre asked, although she really didn't need an answer. “For how long?”

“At least the first half of our separation.”

“I see. Well, it's pretty clear that neither one of you gave your marriage a fair shot. In light of that, it's obvious what I'll have to do. Annul the extension on your divorce.”

Draco nearly fell out of his chair. Instead he tried his hardest to swallow as he choked out, _“I beg your pardon?”_ Madame Pierre happily sighed and closed his and Astoria's file.

“I'll let you both in on a little secret: I detest the divorce process the Ministry enforces. Divorce isn't something that one haphazardly decides to do, and it shouldn't be up to us to decide whether a couple should get one. You don't love each other. If Mrs. Malfoy's admission didn't tell me that, then the way Mr. Malfoy's face lit up and fell certainly did the trick. I sincerely doubt that another year of counseling sessions will do either of you any good. In my opinion it’ll harm you more than anything.

‘Give me a day or two and the divorce extension will be annulled. I know that you had one more session on the books with Monsieur Dupont, but I don’t think that’ll be necessary. Consider your sessions officially over. Once the annulment goes through the both of you may contact your solicitor and sign the appropriate documentation to finalize everything.”

“And that’s it?” Draco questioned. “That’s all that we have to do?”

“That’s all. Unless either of you have any questions on the matter, that would conclude the meeting and you can consider yourselves unofficially officially divorced.”

Astoria was the first one on her feet and heading towards the door while Draco stayed rooted to where he was. The divorce wasn’t extended. No more counseling sessions. All that was needed now were two signatures and it would be over. After nothing but roadblocks one after another, things were _finally_ going right.

“We can go now, Draco.”

Astoria’s voice had brought Draco back to reality. He took a moment to wipe at his face, bid Madame Pierre his goodbyes, and followed his soon-to-be ex-wife away from the office. The long hallway they had taken to make it to Madame Pierre’s office seemed longer this time around, and the silence between the pending divorced couple was heavy in the air.

“You helped me,” Draco said once they had passed the receptionist’s desk and headed towards the main door. Once they were in the main hall Astoria shrugged.

“I don’t know. I think Madame Pierre had a soft spot for you and would’ve pushed our divorce through no matter what was said this evening. Although,” Astoria glanced at him for a moment before adding in a chuckle, “looking like you just found out someone died was the cherry on top. Ms. Weasley must be one incredible witch.”

Draco knew better than to answer Astoria’s last remark and so he didn’t. The remainder of their walk out of the Department of Marriage and Divorce and to the lifts was quiet, but it didn’t last for long. Draco couldn’t quite remember the last time Astoria had been so talkative, especially when it was to him that she was speaking. Now more than ever he wished that she would stop talking considering the tangential topic she had now stumbled onto.

“We’ll have to set aside a day to discuss things and also run it by our solicitor so that he can draw up the final paperwork.”

“Right…” Draco had drawn out the end of his words and he could feel Astoria’s eyes on him. They were down in the Ministry’s main atrium now and moments later they were brushing off soot stains after having travelled from the government building and to the house along La Garonne. That same house would be Astoria's once the divorce was final. It was one of the few things that they had talked (argued) about last year.

“Scorpius told me that he did accidental magic.”

His comment was random, but Astoria wasn't bothered by it. Instead, she smiled broadly and nodded as she recounted the tale. “Oh yes. We were in the middle of play time when it happened. There was a toy on the shelf that he wanted and before I could retrieve it, it floated right over to him! I couldn't have been prouder.”

“Me too,” Draco grinned. It was hard to keep up, however, when he continued the conversation with, “He asked if he could go to school with Rose and Hugo.”

He had rushed his words, hoping that it might soften the blow, but the way that Astoria’s face had crashed told a different story. He waited for countless seconds for her reaction, but there was nothing. No words. No movement. Just a blank stare so well placed that one would think she had been struck by a body bind.

“Astoria?”

“They go to school in England, Draco,” she announced at his prodding. Draco anxiously rocked back on his heels and nodded.

“I know.”

“Scorpius would have to live there.”

“I know that too.”

“What did you tell him?”

“I said that I’d talk to you about it.”

“Oh, _of course_ you did!” Astoria huffed angrily. “Tell him that you’ll see what I say, and if he doesn’t get to go then _I’ll_ be the bad guy!”

“That’s not the reason, and you know it,” Draco shot back. “It’s a decision that I can’t make on my own, so yes, I said that I’d talk to you about it.”

“And no matter what it’s still a decision that weighs more on my shoulders than yours.” Astoria shook her head and stomped off through the foyer and down an adjacent hall.

“Dramatic” was what instantly came to Draco’s thoughts, but considering the significance of the situation he let her have it for once. Draco followed her, not needing to have her in his line of sight to know where she had gone, and found her in a corner room where they had often entertained guests. There was a bar along the back wall, and he knew that she must be desperate for something to numb her. However, she had the same rule about drinking when Scorpius was near or going to be.

“First you're leaving me and now you want to take my son away. Thanks for that.”

Draco bit the inside of jaw before moving to sit down across from her. “That's the _last_ thing that I want to do, Astoria. You should know that. We may not have been what we wanted each other to be, but Scorpius always comes first.”

Astoria sighed deeply. Yes, she knew that. Scorpius was the light of their world. They would do anything for him and give him anything he wanted. Any more pampering and he would be spoiled rotten honestly, but somehow she knew he wouldn’t be. He was the sweetest boy and deserved the best that they as his parents could give him.

“We worked so hard to find those tutors,” she said with a sad chuckle, her attention very deeply attached to her hands. “Do you remember those awful interviews?”

Draco cracked a smile. “I do. It was the worst five months of my life.”

Astoria laughed. It died down to nervous giggles and when she finally looked up at Draco he wondered if her face was what his looked like back in Madame Pierre’s office. Absolutely crestfallen. “Scorpius would have to live with you. You know that, don’t you?”

“You could always move back to England.”

“You say that like it’s easy. There’s the sale of the house and finding a new one in a location that’s a respectable distance from both you _and_ the school. I need time to think about this, and we’ll have to discuss it thoroughly.”

“Agreed,” Draco nodded. “Would a tour of the school help?”

“Yes. I’ll also need the school’s ranking, a list of all professors and their teaching background, and I need to know the outline the average school day.”

“Done. You know, Astoria, you may have been an awful wife, but you’re not that bad of a mother.”

“Thank you, I think?” Astoria said with a quirked brow. “Now, if you excuse me,” she added as she rose from her seat and gestured to the door. “I'd appreciate it if you got out of my house. I’d like to enjoy it without you in it if there’s a chance of my moving in the near future.”

“An awful, _awful_ wife,” Draco dramatically sighed before acquiescing and leaving the home with a happy skip to his step.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HE'S FREE! A very Draco-centric chapter and for good reason :). Things are winding down folks, so estimating from my outline...let's say chapter 30-31? Could be less since time jumps are used frequently here. I'm going to miss this!
> 
> -WP


	26. Debauchery

Hermione was by no means a gardener, but she couldn't say no when her mother-in-law gifted her some of her prized phoenix gardenias. The proper spells had been put in place to keep them from wilting, but they wouldn’t work for long. And so, Hermione got down on hands and knees with a book next to her on how to properly plant the flowers. To grow properly in soil different than when it was planted, certain charms had to be put into the ground first for “familiarity,” or so the planting book Molly had given her with the plants. It sounded ridiculous and equally made up, but she had come to terms over the years that some aspects of magic were just not questioned (although researched heavily was still an option).

It was as she was finally putting dirt on the newly re-planted flowers that Hermione heard voices in the distance. There was a male voice saying, “mum” and one of her children saying “backyard.” There was a list of gentlemen that she could choose from as to who would be visiting her, and while all were as likely as the last, she hoped for one in particular and wasn’t disappointed when she rose from the ground and found Draco strolling across the grass to her.

“Well, don’t you look hap- Draco!” Hermione gasped and then laughed shortly after. Draco hadn’t said one word but just grabbed her by the waist and swung her around. When he finally set her down he kissed her and pulled away she could only describe him as utterly euphoric. “Something extraordinary must’ve happened! What is it?”

“The extension on my divorce was annulled,” Draco told her with the widest grin he could muster.

Of all the things he could have said (and of course something Hermione hoped), she still couldn’t’ believe it. “Your…? Your…?”

“ _Di_ ...vorce ex… _ten_ ...sion was a… _nulled,_ ” he repeated slowly. “No more counselling sessions. Just  a couple signatures and that’s all.”

It took a few more seconds before it finally sunk in for Hermione, but when it did she squealed loud enough to attract the neighbors and jumped into Draco’s arms. “I can’t believe it! I’m so happy for you!”

“My bleeding ears can tell,” Draco chuckled. “Now, you have to go get dressed.”

“Get dressed?” Hermione repeated with a furrowed brow.

Draco nodded as he recalled fondly, “I once said that I wanted to go dancing when I got my divorce. Hermione, it’s time for that dance.”

“Oh my Merlin, you were serious?” Hermione giggled in disbelief.

“You should know by now that I never say anything that I don’t mean. So, what say you? A night out with the man you can unofficially officially call your boyfriend?”

Hermione felt the nerves of an anxious fifteen-year-old run through her in combination with the nerves of a woman who had just come to a realization: there was nothing holding them back. Draco could be hers now, if she let him, and the B-word could flow freely. The only thing that could be a barrier for them in the future would be herself.

But not tonight, and hopefully never again or anytime soon.

Hermione threaded her hands through Draco’s hair and smiled as she did so. “Alright. Let’s go dancing.”

“Good. We can make an early start of it. I'll head home to change into something better and be back for you in an hour.”

“An hour? Mr. Malfoy, I'll need at _minimum_ three hours. I have to find a sitter, shower, find something to wear, figure out what to do with this hair of mine-”

Hermione had been half-serious, half-exaggerating, and had a list of “things to do” ready to explain, but Draco’s mouth stopped her. Clever, she had to admit, and slow and deep just the way she preferred. Draco pulled back just enough to keep his lips close in case he needed to shut her up again.

“One hour.”

“Two and a half.”

“ _One_ and a half.”

“Two. Final offer,” Hermione told him. “I’ll even dance to any song that you like.”

“Damn, can’t say no to that,” Draco chuckled. “Two hours then.”

* * *

 

As always, George was happy to babysit his favorite niece and nephew. However, instead of keeping watch at their own home, he had told them to gather some pajamas so that they could spend the night at his house.

“Mum might be out late,” he said and then winked at Hermione who tried her hardest not to out-blush the makeup on her face. Regardless, she was thankful. She didn’t think that she’d fully be able to enjoy herself if she kept thinking that she needed to be home by a decent hour for her children. This was a massive celebration, and she wanted to treat it with due festiveness.

In two hours’ time Draco was sauntering through her fireplace, his eyes immediately falling onto the staircase because he expected to see his witch coming down at any moment. He even timed it. He counted down from ten in his head and took pride in himself when he saw Hermione's form appearing once he had gotten to “one.” His head tilted slightly when all he could see was pure leg and was wondering (not complaining) where her dress was going to start.

“Well, I guess I'll be arrested tonight.”

“What? _Why?_ ” Hermione questioned, her face contorted in alarm.

Draco, the picture-perfect definition of calm, stuck his hands in his pockets and replied, “By the looks of that dress, I'm going to have to curse every man that looks at you. You'll come visit me in Azkaban, won't you?”

“Of course! I'll even bring pastries. Azkaban food is terrible, you know.”

“I’d rather you smuggle me my wand, but food is good I suppose. Shall we go?”

Draco offered Hermione his arm and she eagerly took it. She didn’t ask where they were going as they went through her front door and decided that she would rather be surprised. He apparated her away and although it was hard at first to determine where she was, Hermione was all smiles when she realized that they had been there before. Be At One in Oxford.

“Oh, I loved this place the last time we were here.”

“I remember,” Draco nodded. They had reached the establishment’s doors and he gently ushered her inside. “Last time we ate more than we should have and went back to my house liquored up.”

“We were _not_ ‘liquored up,” Hermione countered. “I remember that night very well which is a clear indication that we weren’t.”

“Sounds awful. We should change that tonight.”

“Excuse me?” Hermione laughed. They had just found two seats at the bar and Draco had signaled the bartender before he could even properly sit. “Mr. Malfoy, is that your way of telling me that you plan on getting drunk this evening?”

“Miss Granger, I’m telling you that I just got freed from marriage hell. Damn straight I’m going to indulge in something that I’ll regret tomorrow, and _you_ are joining me.”

Hermione shook her head at the jovial man beside her who pushed a cocktail her way. She thought she had seen him happy before, but this was something different. Something more than euphoria as she had described earlier, and that was saying something.

Her fingers danced along her glass’ edge and she side-eyed at her _boyfriend_ who was staring at nothing else but her. Hermione chuckled. “This is a recipe for disaster.”

“Agreed,” Draco as he took up his glass to clink with hers, “but a beautiful one.”

* * *

 

“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Hermione exclaimed far louder than she normally would have. However, considering that she had just finished her third cocktail and the decibel level of the pub was rather high, it was necessary. “I do hope Astoria considers moving or letting Scorpius live with you.”

“Merlin, I hope it’s the second one,” Draco said with a deep sigh. “I miss seeing him every day even though I’m tired as hell at the end of the day.”

“That’s kids for you. They wear you down like _that!_ I hope you can manage two more, mister.”

“Two?” Draco tilted his head. Bad move seeing as the floor moved when he did it. “I only have one kid.”

“I meant mine, silly!” She clarified with a tut. “Think about it. Say Scorpius gets to go to school with my kids. You’re home so when you pick up your son, you can grab my little ones just the same. Or…is that weird?” Hermione frowned suddenly and held in her gasp. “It is, isn’t it? Oh, forget that I said anything! I didn’t mean-”

Draco cut her off with a strong laugh and reached over to cup her face in his hands before planting a kiss on her forehead. “You are too adorable when flustered. And no, it’s not weird. At this point I love your kids just as much as you do. Besides, Rose and Hugo love my house. They never want to leave.”

“Please,” Hermione snorted, turning her face slightly so that she could kiss his palm. “ _I_ love your house and I never want to leave.”

“Do you?” Draco questioned with a light to his eyes. “And what about the man who owns that house?”

A bold question on his part, but that’s what cocktails would do to you. And if he could ask such a question, Hermione felt comfortable with responding with her answer.

“I just may be on my way to doing that,” she replied with a soft hiccup. “Who wouldn’t be into the tall, blond, grey-eyed type?”

“Someone with _horrible_ taste,” Draco replied as he got up (more like slipped off) his seat and took Hermione’s hand. “Come on. It’s time to dance.”

Hermione’s eyes went wide, maybe even cross-eyed, as she strained to hear the song playing. She wasn’t very successful as she kept hearing the words “blurred lines,” but nothing else. Regardless, she did know that it was a rather fast-paced song and she doubted very much that her body could move in _any_ of the formations she could see other couples doing.

“Oh no,” she shook her head. “Not to that song I’m not!”

“No?” Draco huffed playfully with his hands on his hips. “Miss Granger you said that you’d dance any song with me! Did you lie?”

“Hell yes, I lied.”

“Well, time for your punishment then.” Draco clapped his hands together and grabbed her by the waist. No, he hadn’t exactly thrown her over his shoulder, but she was carried away from the bar anyway and onto the dance floor. “I've danced with you before so I know that you can do something,” he added as he placed his hands on her hips and moved them for her. “We’re also very envabrated. It's fine.”

Hermione laughed and cocked a brow in the air. “I think you meant _inebriated_.”

“Drunk off your arse and still a Know It-All. Dance already!”

Drunk or not Hermione was highly embarrassed at watching Draco move his arms, legs, and hips _out_ of tune with the music. She stood there, trying her hardest not to break down into hysterics with a hand over her mouth and looking around cautiously. She kept that up for a full thirty seconds before being grabbed around the waist again and pressed against Draco and all of his uncoordinated dance movements.

Hermione broke down then and gave in to the frivolity. She wasn't sure if the spinning room was due to their movement or the alcohol, but if she fell she'd be taking Draco down with her as their arms were wrapped around each other. Three fast songs had passed by before a slow one, and they both breathed out tiredly.

“Last time we were here I had to force you to dance with me then too. Remember?” Draco asked. Hermione smiled and lay her head on his shoulder as she nodded.

“Yes. You didn't care that I had said no. You're terrible.”

Draco chuckled and held her closer as they swayed to the song. “Terrible, but for good reason. Everything I do is for you. Don't ever forget that.”

Hermione looked up at him then, and for the first time since they started their night of celebratory debauchery he was serious.

“I'll never forget that,” she told him. “You make me feel better.”

“Good.”

* * *

 

Unlike the last time, Draco and Hermione stayed at Be At One well into the night. A couple more dances, a couple more cocktails, and the two of them tumbled out of Draco's fireplace and fell right onto the floor. It hurt, yes, but they were too liquored up to care about the pain. The blond was on his back, staring up at the ceiling and wondering if it really was that high-vaulted.

“Oh, Mr. Malfoy,” Hermione sang. “Follow me if you dare.”

Draco rolled over and squinted as he watched Hermione get up from the floor and make it to the first stair. She was fumbling with something behind her back, and his eyes widened, when he noticed something dangling from her fingers.

_Is that her bra?_

That lovely piece of lingerie slipped to the floor and the brunette giggled as she took to the stairs two at a time. Draco got up faster than humanly possible which, he had to admit, was pretty impressive considering how drunk he was. A sloppy rise to his feet, one thigh bump against the couch’s armrest, and he made it to the stairs.

At the top Draco immediately tripped over one of Hermione's shoes. The other was a foot away. He tilted his head as he identified the other items on the floor. Earrings. A watch. Innocuous things, but the fact that she was undressing at all was bloody beautiful.

He walked into his bedroom, confused when he didn't find Hermione, but then grinned madly when his door closed and she was behind it.

“I figured that you'd want to take care of the rest,” Hermione teased, tugging on the strap of her dress for good measure.

“You figured right.”

She giggled and met him halfway as he crossed the room. Their kiss was feverish, and their movements clumsy as Draco slid down the zipper on her dress and Hermione unbuttoned his shirt. He sobered a little when her dress fell, and his lips gravitated from her mouth down to her breasts. Hermione's head rolled back of its own accord, and she took her bottom lip between her teeth as she mimicked every lick, bite, and roll Draco made of her nipples between his teeth.

The action stopped after a few minutes and Hermione wrapped her legs around Draco as he hoisted her up so that he could carry her to the bed. On the way there her lips never parted from his, ignoring the need to breathe and only doing so when Draco gently dropped her onto the bed. Hermione watched him from where she lay as Draco slipped his undone shirt off his shoulders. When his hands reached his pants she suddenly sat up, easing herself to the edge of the bed, and stopped him.

“Let me.”

Draco had been sobering already, but hearing those words from Hermione had done it further. He stood in awe and in anticipation as Hermione worked on undoing the buttons and his pants all the while lowering herself into her knees. It was too good to be true to think that she was going to do what he _thought_ she was going to. However, by the way her eyes focused in as she pulled the zipper down and she bit her lower lip, there wasn't much denying it.

For someone who had been so reluctant to do anything of the sort just a month ago, she was sure willing now. That thought, regrettably, sobered Draco even more and he caught her hands just before she could slide his underwear down.

“Hermione, how drunk are you?”

She looked up a him although her gaze was struggling not to return to its original position. “A little bit.”

Draco raised an incredulous brow.

Hermione grumbled. “A lot a bit.”

Draco smiled and then laughed before helping her get to her feet. He was instantly regretting it, but the wise, less inebriated side of him was taking control now.

“As much as I really, _really_ want you to do this…” he paused for a moment, kicking himself with every word be spoke, “I don't want you to do it drunk.”

“Are you sure?” Hermione asked. “Other parts of you say otherwise.”

There was nothing but truth in that statement. It also didn't help that Hermione had walked her hand down his chest and over his _very_ erect cock.

“I'm sure,” Draco rushed out between clenched teeth.

Hermione sighed, kissed him quickly on the lips before happily saying, “As you wish, Mr. Malfoy!” She fell back onto the bed, and moaned contentedly to herself as she reached up for the pillows on his bed and cuddled them.

Draco shook his head, wondering if he was too good of a person or a total dumbass. Considering that Hermione hadn't dressed and was comfortably laying in just her _laced_ underwear, he decided that he was a good natured dumbass.

“Where are you going?” Hermione asked him.

With his hand on the bathroom doorknob, Draco candidly replied, “To take an _extremely_ cold shower.”

* * *

 

Hermione wanted to die. Her head was pounding, the sound of the birds chirping was like a knife to her skull, and she felt like she wanted to vomit. She made the mistake of cracking open one eye, but the world around her was spinning. Regardless, from what she could see she knew that she wasn't home. Draco's decorative style was apparent which made sense since she vaguely remember going out with him last night. Aside from sharing a few drinks and laughs, she didn't remember much else.

Despite the severity of her hangover, Hermione opened both eyes and looked around her. Bedroom. She was in Draco's bedroom. She was also wearing a set of his pajamas. Before she could begin to piece together what may have happened last night, the bedroom door opened. Draco sauntered in looking at least twice as better than she must at the moment, but still a (handsome) trainwreck.

“How do you feel?”

“Hungover,” she admitted bitterly. “Terribly, _terribly_ hungover.”

“Here, drink this.” He held out a glass with the most awful looking lime-green liquid and urged her to take it. “I've already had two for the morning.”

Hermione greedily took the Hangover Potion from Draco and gulped it down. After drinking the whole thing she let out a tired groan. “We are _never_ drinking like that again.”

“I don't know,” Draco shrugged, a wide grin plastered on his face. “I think I like you drunk. You tend to strip, not to mention that you're _very_ eager to please.”

The brunette stared at him oddly before letting her mouth drop. Draco had pulled out her bra from behind him and held it in his hand by the strap.

“Um… Did we…?”

“No. A round one for us would probably be better sober. The second time, however?” Draco grinned even wider and dangled her bra in front of her face. “We should experiment. I'm rather curious how naked you get without my doing.”

“Well,” Hermione cleared her throat, obviously embarrassed by what she couldn't remember. “While I'm glad that we didn't ruin our first time together, I'd _really_ like to have my bra back.”

Draco side-eyed the bra once, looked back over at Hermione and shook his head. “I don't think so.”

Hermione furrowed her brow and sat up fully. No, she wasn't entirely cured of her hangover, but she was at least marginally functional. “Draco Malfoy,” she outstretched her hand, “you hand that back to me right now.”

“Oh, but I have such fond, fuzzy memories of this,” Draco frowned before quickly adding joyfully, “I think I'll hold onto it.”

“Draco!” Hermione stretched over and tried to snatch her bra away from him, but he stepped back and out of her reach. “Draco, come on now! Give it back!” she added as she got out of bed this time.

“And rob me of the opportunity to jog inappropriate memories?” Draco tutted. “That's cruel.”

_“Malfoy!”_

“Follow me if you dare!” Draco shouted, and Hermione slapped a palm to her forehead as Draco dashed out of the bedroom with her bra in his hand.

He was as an utter child that man, and she very much felt the same as she chased after him through the house. How Draco could make her both want to throttle and kiss him was beyond her, but as she caught up to him in the living room, wrestling her bra away from him and laughing all the while, she realized that she didn't need to know. He was hers and she was his, and that was enough.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter was nothing but (well-deserved) happiness! I love this chapter not just for the fun, but also because the whole nature of "feeling better" mimicks DH's conversation from the last time they were in Oxford (chapter 11, if you want to go back ;).
> 
> Fun facts: The #1 song for the summer of 2013 was Blurred Lines by Robin Thicke, so that's what Hermione heard :).
> 
> I'm hoping that this chapter can tie you over for two weeks as I won't be posting next Saturday. Why? I'LL BE IN LONDON! And yes, there will be Harry Potter themed adventures while I'm there lol.
> 
> -WP


	27. The Question

_August 1st, 2013_

As promised, it had only taken Madame Pierre two days to get the annulment to go through. The week after that Draco and Astoria went to The Young Wizard’s Learning Center to have a tour of the school. Draco was already sold on the idea for he knew that if Hermione had enrolled her children there that the educational establishment had to be top notch. He had eyed Astoria the whole time as she questioned the Headmistress on everything from what the students learned, the teachers’ life history from date of birth, and even to the lunch and snack’s nutritional value. A terrible wife yes, but a damn good mother.

After the school tour it took roughly four days for the Malfoys to discuss and compromise on a few matters, and in the end they made an appointment with their solicitor  for the earliest time he could make.

Today was the day.

Draco and Astoria had sent over their agreements ahead of time for their solicitor to prepare, and in conjunction with agreements from the original betrothal contract, it had resulted in a parchment roll at least five feet long. Their solicitor looked up from the roll and to the couple, both equally tense but for different reasons.

He took a deep breath and began with, “Let's do a final review, shall we? The house where Ms. Malfoy currently resides will be turned over for her sole possession, yes?”

“Yes,” Draco nodded. “I have my own house so there’s no need for me to hold onto the one in France.”

“And the house elves? You're still on board with Ms. Malfoy keeping them?”

“I am. I've lived without them for the past year just fine, so I think that's a testament to not needing them.”

Draco never thought that he would ever say something like that. He could hear Hermione now, utterly ecstatic that he decided not to further subject them to forced labor. That was hardly the case, however. Aside from the fact that he had truly grown accustomed to doing things on his own, he simply didn't have the room to for a house elf, let alone eight. Regardless, for Hermione's sake (and to avoid a lecture), he'd let her make up whatever reasoning she had and he'd run with it.

“Very well,” their solicitor gently nodded. “Moving on. An original financial divorce settlement had been agreed upon that included Ms. Malfoy keeping three Malfoy investment stocks for her own use and monetary gain as well as a money transfer to a personal Gringotts vault. The transfer amount amassed to 150,000 galleons. Is that still mutually agreed upon?”

Draco briefly looked over at Astoria who, although paused slightly, eventually gave in with a barely-there nod.

“Good then,” the solicitor smiled. “There's also the matter of Ms. Malfoy's engagement ring. As it originally belonged to Mr. Malfoy's grandmother and is meant to be worn by Malfoy wives, the ring is to be returned. This particular matter had been originally agreed upon during the betrothal arrangement. Ms. Malfoy, the ring, please?”

Astoria took the longest and deepest breath she could muster as she stared down at her hands. The Malfoy ring was an exquisite piece of jewelry, albeit with a dishonest history. It had been in the family since the sixteenth century, and was presumably the ring Lucius Malfoy I was going to propose with had his seducing of Queen Elizabeth I had been successful.

A cross between a posy and a gimmel ring, it was solid gold with a pair of hands coming up to enclose an emerald. There was a French inscription inside as well that loosely translated as “forever yours.” Draco watched as Astoria slowly, and painstakingly, pulled it off of her ring finger. It was another couple of moments before she turned and handed it to Draco who slipped it into his pocket.

“Finally, we shall discuss custody of Scorpius. Of the agreements that you sent it states that Scorpius will be living with Mr. Malfoy?”

“Yes,” Astoria nodded. “We've enrolled Scorpius at the Young Wizard's Learning Center. I'll be moving to accommodate his enrollment, but he needs a London address in the meantime since the school year will be beginning soon.”

“Does that mean Scorpius’ permanent address will be that of Mr. Malfoy’s?”

“Yes,” Draco answered, “but regardless of that Astoria and I will share custody of him.”

“Ah, I see.  Out of all of the agreements that you two made none of it discussed the nature of your joint custody. We should go over it now then.”

A loud, harmonious scoff and the words, “Absolutely not,” rang out in the room that startled the solicitor so much that his parchment jumbled in his hands. Draco and Astoria shared amused smirks before the former shook his head.

“That’s the _last_ thing that we’re going to discuss. If there's one thing we don't have to worry about is the proper attention Scorpius will get from both of us. That said, we'll work out the co-parenting details on our own.”

Their solicitor spent countless minutes staring between the soon-to-be divorced pair before silently giving in with a gentle nod. He stood then, going to the head of the long table on the right and unrolling the incredibly long piece of parchment in its entirety. He pulled out his wand next, giving the parchment a tap on the upper left corner and then the upper right. Little “X’s” appeared and some glowed red while the others blue.

“If Mr. Malfoy can initial at the red and Ms. Malfoy at the blue, please?”

Quills were conjured and the pair got to work. They dutifully signed where they were instructed to, some places high, others low, until they both made it to the bottom of the parchment. It required their full signatures this time, no initials, and Draco felt the weight of the world fall from his shoulders the moment he penned “D” for his first name and ending in a long flourish of “Y” for his last. Astoria hadn’t penned her own name in such a fashion, but her name was written nonetheless.

“It’s official then,” their solicitor announced. “You are now divorced.”

An ostentatious fanfare was going off in Draco’s head, but he kept his facade on the calm side as he followed Astoria out of their solicitor’s office. Much like leaving Madame Pierre’s office last month, it was a quiet journey, but just like Draco’s thoughts were swirling, he was sure that Astoria’s were the same.

“We still have to give the school Scorpius’ medical records,” she said once they had entered the lift. “I can get them from the hospital this week and owl them to you. Is the nineteenth still a good day for Scorpius to 'officially’ move in?”

“Perfectly fine. And you can grab him from school on Fridays and drop him off on Mondays until you figure out your housing situation.”

“Agreed.”

The pair of them had spoken throughout the ride through the lift and had walked the rest of the way out of the building without saying much else. Now that they were outside, this was it. Parting of ways. They stood awkwardly for a moment before Astoria took a deep breath and nonchalantly said,

“I’d say nice knowing you, but why lie, right?”

Draco smiled, a brief laugh, and he shook his head. “Lies never did anyone any good. I’ll see you when you drop Scorpius off tomorrow.”

* * *

 

Hermione was up to her arms in paperwork and no matter how much she did it seemed like it was never-ending. She was quite sure that Rose and Hugo wouldn’t be picked up from Molly and Arthur’s until well after dinner which was quite unfortunate. She had been looking forward to her mother-in-law’s steak and kidney pie. With a sigh, she rushed a signature on the millionth form she had been signing off on about land space for Centaurs in northern England when her door handle jiggled. Hermione was hardly surprised by that nor by the exasperated sound of her receptionist. Quite frankly she didn’t know why Francine was still unnerved by Draco’s actions when he’d been like this since...well, always.

Hermione chuckled to herself, picked up her wand from the corner of her desk, and undid the charms that kept her door shut. Draco stood on the other side, all happy smiles, while Francine stood in the background with her hands on her hips. Hermione gave the woman an apologetic upturn of her hips before Draco shut the door behind him.

“Really, Draco, you're going to have to be nicer to her.”

“Does it help if I apologized as I walked past her and up to your door?”

“No,” Hermione laughed. Draco shrugged and dug his hand into his pocket as he strode up to her desk and sat down. Her laughter died down when she saw what was between his fingers.

“It's done,” he told her. Draco eyed the Malfoy ring that had recently belonged to Astoria and set it down on Hermione's work. “It's finally done.”

Hermione picked up the ring and held it to her eyes. It felt warm, and she wondered if it was because it had been in Draco's pocket or because it had been on Astoria’s hand for years _._

“What will you do with it?”

“It's a family ring, so it'll go in the vault along with mine. Scorpius can have them when he gets married in the _very_ far future.”

The thought of seven-year-old Scorpius (and of course her own children) getting married sent a shiver down her spine. Hermione twirled the ring in her hand and examined it, proclaiming shortly after, “A gimmel ring. It's lasted quite long in your family.”

“Leave it to you to know about ring history,” Draco mused. Hermione's cheeks rouged a bit and she handed the ring back.

“Well, you know me. Besides, as fate would have it, my own ring had gimmel qualities even though it didn't have as long a shelf life as that one. It makes it very easy to spot another. Shame that I can't show it to you, though. I buried it.”

Draco's brow rose high on his head. Although he had noticed long ago that Hermione didn't wear her wedding ring, he had never thought to ask what happened to it. Now that she had revealed, albeit cryptically, where it was, he found that he needed confirmation.

“Buried it?”

“With Ron,” Hermione elaborated. “As you can imagine I was rather hysterical when he died. I had this notion of wanting him to have something to remember me, so I slipped my ring off at the funeral and put it in his breast pocket.” She sighed then and twiddled her thumbs. “Even now I wish I hadn't done that.”

There was a pause in the air and Hermione looked up at Draco who was studying her intently. “Sorry. Here I am getting sentimental and ruining your happy day. For all I know you wanted to ask me to go dancing again.”

“No, not dancing,” Draco grinned, “but I did want to ask you one thing.”

“Yeah? What's that?”

“If you're ready.”

Despite his smile he was still studying her and Hermione leaned back in her chair, her hands cupped on the edge of her desk. “I hope that you’re not taking my lapse through memory lane as me hedging or anything. It’s quite possible to remember things without being sad about it.”

Draco’s grin turned wider and he inclined his head towards her. “Progress.”

“Very much so, yes,” she replied with a girlish giggle. It died quickly and she urged him with a curt nod. Draco followed suit and leaned back in his chair as well. It felt like a business meeting, and in a loose way it was.

“My divorce is _officially_ official. We don’t have to hide anymore.”

Hermione motioned for a yes. Although she and Draco had gone out plenty of times since his unofficially official divorce happened, they had still played it safe in case something had backfired. Too paranoid they were that their luck would run out as it oftentimes did.

“Newspapers will jump on us like a bunch of harpies.”

That she knew too. Regardless, she agreed with a push of her head and Draco gave his own in return. Now it was her turn, and for this Hermione leaned forward and she stared directly into his eyes as she asked, “Are _you_ ready? I’ve come a lot farther than I ever thought I would, and I have you to thank for that. There are still bits and pieces of me that are broken, though.” She paused for a moment, it being painfully obvious she dreaded saying this next bit, but she plowed on. “What if something happens and I try to leave?”

Again, Draco followed her lead and leaned forward. He reached out for her cupped hands and took them in his, his eyes never leaving hers. “I was a Seeker, remember? I’ll catch you before you do.”

Hermione didn’t even fight the redness of her cheeks and she shook her head. “That was sweet enough to rot teeth, Mr. Malfoy. My parents would be horrified.”

Draco laughed and rose out of his seat so that he could kiss her. “Cheers to rotting teeth.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A bit short, but the next part fit better as a new chapter. Regardless, it feels good to post again! It was interesting to look up the history of rings to find one appropriate that would be passed down the Malfoy line. I'm also still very intrigues about Lucius Malfoy I. It'd be a nice history fic if anyone knows of any! Also, London was amazing. I went to the HP Studio tour and it was Deatheater season. Posed for a photo with one, looked back, and she had her wand trained on me the whole time. Yikes. :D
> 
> -WP


	28. Harpies

_August 14th, 2013_

_Hermione Weasley and Draco Malfoy:_

_Together Against All Odds_

_If the headline is a bit puzzling, trust us, it was hard for us to write it! For the past week and a half the wizarding world has seen Ms. Weasley, wife of the deceased Ron Weasley, out and about which is nothing incredibly newsworthy. What_ _ **does**_   _have our ears buzzing and our eyes wide is the fact that Ms. Weasley hasn't been alone! Draco Malfoy, former supporter of You-Know-Who and known Deatheater, has been by her side. Many members of the wizarding community have seen these two frequently in one another's company whether it be at a restaurant, shopping, or taking a stroll. While it has been a soft rumor that the children of Ms. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy's son are friends, the outings between the adults have been reported as_ _ **not**_   _being kid friendly._

" _Oh yes, I see them all the time," a local shop owner in Diagon Alley said. "They're quite affectionate. Holding hands, hugs and such. A kiss here and there. Who would've thought it?"_

_Who would have indeed! The history surrounding Ms. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy is well known. They were bitter rivals during their time at Hogwarts which carried over into being on opposite sides of the Second Wizarding War. At the end of the war, Ms. Weasley married her school sweetheart, Ron Weasley, and they had two children, Rose and Hugo Weasley. Mr. Weasley unfortunately died early last year. As for Mr. Malfoy, after being absolved of all charges for his part in the war, he fled to France where he married Astoria Greengrass and had one son, Scorpius Malfoy. Sources indicate, however, that Mr. Malfoy and his wife had been going through a divorce this past year which was just recently finalized._

_With such timing it begs to wonder when did this romance blossom between Ms. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy?_

" _They're together with their kids a lot," said Mr. Cornwall of the little wizarding shopping center of Vertick Alley. "I didn't really think anything of it because of the kids, you know?"_

_Oh yes, outings with the children can certainly take one's eyes off of the adults! Other witnesses have noticed Ms. Weasley and Mr. Malfoy having good times without their children as well. Such instances date as far back as January of this year. Again we ask, when did this all start? When the children became friends?_ _ **Before?**_   _It would make for quite the gossip if it played any part in the divorce of Mr. Malfoy and his now ex-wife Astoria Malfoy._

_More to follow as this unlikely romance continues to bloom._

* * *

_August 19th, 2013_

_Family Date Nights?_

_We follow the new couple Ms. Hermione Weasley and Mr. Draco Malfoy as they not only enjoy a night out for themselves, but also with the children! Scorpius (to the right) looks fairly happy to be in Ms. Weasley's company and even takes her hand as they walk along Whistledon's street's (see next page for photograph). While Rose and Hugo Weasley aren't skipping down the street as young Scorpius, they do seem to enjoy being around Mr. Malfoy._

" _They're a happy bunch, those kids," a restaurant owner of Whistledon said. "I've seen them once or twice and they get along like they're a true family."_

_Did you read that folks? A true_ _ **family.**_   _We wonder if Rose and Hugo Weasley call Mr. Malfoy "dad?" With the sad departure of their father in an accident early last year, we wonder what it must be like for them with a new father-figure in their lives._

* * *

_August 23rd, 2013_

_Draco Malfoy: A Faithful Husband_

_Ever since the news of Draco Malfoy's divorce from Astoria Malfoy, as well as the relationship between himself and Hermione Weasley, rumors have been circulating like wildfire. Did Ms. Weasley have a hand in the Malfoys' divorce? The timing certainly feels off, but Mr. Malfoy has assured that things between him and his ex-wife had long since been deteriorating before Ms. Weasley came into his life. Not that that has quelled the gossip mills of course. There is, however, one new voice speaking on behalf on Mr. Malfoy which adds just a touch of credibility._

" _My ex-husband was one hundred percent faithful to me," Astoria Malfoy said in an official statement when we went to ask her thoughts on the matter. "We didn't work for reasons completely unrelated to Ms. Weasley and I wish them well."_

_Other sources have not only backed up Ms. Malfoy's claims, but some have also accused_ _ **her**_   _of being the reason why the marriage between herself and her now ex-husband didn't work out._

" _She cheated like mad," an anonymous source stated. "She had lovers galore and never really cared for Draco. To be honest, I'm surprised that they didn't divorce sooner."_

_What a scandal! If that's the case, who better to turn to after a horrible marriage than that of Ms. Weasley? We can only imagine that she would treat Mr. Malfoy with all the care she had once bestowed on her deceased husband, Ron Weasley._

* * *

_September 2nd, 2013_

_A Ceasefire or Else:_

_Draco Malfoy Defends Ex-Wife_

_Ever since it has been revealed that Astoria Malfoy, ex-wife of Draco Malfoy, had been unfaithful throughout her marriage, it has not been easy living. Reports of unsavory letters to her home (and even death threats!) have made life unbearable for her. Sources tell us that whereas Ms. Malfoy was a frequenter of the outdoors, she has taken to staying indoors to avoid the glares and condescending remarks from others. Although divorced, Mr. Malfoy has spoken out against the attacks._

" _Was our life perfect? No, hence the divorce. Regardless of that, that part of our lives is over now and other people need to realize that," Mr. Malfoy confided to one of our reporters. "What people also need to realize is that she is the mother of my son. What affects her, affects him, and I refuse to let random strangers abuse her for things that not only happened in the past, but also have absolutely nothing to do with them. Astoria and I may not be together anymore, but I'll defend her for the mere fact that she was part of my life and always will be because we share a child. This will end_ _ **now.**_ "

_Mr. Malfoy has…_

Draco stopped reading. He didn't know why he had chosen to read today's article when he knew what it was going to be about. Regardless, he had broken his own rule about reading newspaper articles solely for the fact that he wanted to know what kind of damage control needed to be done. He didn't want to have to say anything and had rather preferred to keep himself at a distance from any and every media outlet that discussed his and Hermione's relationship. Not that it was easy. Hermione had to have a conversation with Rose and Hugo about calling Draco "dad" after the article from two weeks ago came out. Swearing off newspapers came to a definite halt when Scorpius told him that his mother had been crying this past weekend. Astoria had hid it well, her exhaustion, when she had brought their son over to officially move in. It still hadn't been a good enough attempt to fool Draco though, and he had cornered her before she left and that's when she had told him of all the awful things that had been happening. Since then, Draco had taken things into his own hands and Astoria was going to postpone her house hunt until the masses came to their senses. His and Astoria's primary concern now was for Scorpius.

Their son wasn't stupid nor was he oblivious to the things that were going on around him. If he knew his mother was upset then he had to have some inclination as to why. Draco promised Astoria that he would talk to him before Friday when she would have him for the weekend. He was  _not_  looking forward to it.

With a sigh Draco picked up the Daily Prophet and threw it into the sink. He used his wand to set it on fire and drew an unnatural satisfaction at watching it burn to nothing. A chime suddenly rang in the air and he smiled, gathering his wand and throwing on the light jacket that had been behind his chair. It was a ten minute reminder he had installed with a charm that Scorpius would be getting out of school soon. Today had been his first day.

Scorpius had been ecstatic to learn that he would be going to school with his friends. What made it better was that he would be in Rose's class. Draco half-expected disciplinary notes about the two of them talking during class or some such or another, but hopefully not on day one. Pushing those thoughts side, Draco found himself walking out of an alley that was close by to the school. In about five minutes or so his class would be led outside by his teacher to be lined up with the others so that they could be picked up by their respective guardian. He eyed the various sets of students who were on their way out, smiling some as he saw Hugo with his respective classmates. He wouldn't be picking him and Rose up today. Despite having no problems doing so, he and Hermione had agreed to an easy transition of doing so, and only if Rose and Hugo wanted to.

And so, Draco raised his hand a little to wave to the boy, but he wasn't paying much attention. In fact, he seemed to be quite upset by two other students who were saying something to him. Whatever it was, it couldn't have been anything good. Draco looked around, waiting for a teacher to put an end to whatever bullying was going on but no one seemed to have noticed. Even before one of the other students gave Hugo a rough shove Draco had already begun making his way towards the children. The closer he got, the clearer their conversation became.

"Are you sure you're not a squib?" The other boy said. "You couldn't even make the cauldron bubble!"

"You'd better stop!" Hugo said with a stomp of his foot. "If not I'll tell my-"

"Your who?" One of them snorted. "Your mum? Your dad?"

"He hasn't got a dad," the other boy snickered. "Last I checked he was dead."

"That may be so, but he's got a stepfather," Draco announced sternly. The bullies were standing at full attention now, clearly not expecting to be heard or scolded, but Draco wasn't concerned with them. His full attention was on Hugo who looked like he would cry at any moment. He gently pulled Hugo to him, a hand on his shoulder as he said, "Anything else you wanted to say to him?"

"No, sir."

"No, nothing at all!"

"Good. Come along, Hugo."

Draco drifted off to the side with Hugo away from the crowd and kneeled down to him at eye level. He still wasn't crying although it was clear that he wanted to.

"Well, that wasn't a good way to end your first day," Draco chuckled inappropriately to lighten the mood. He frowned when it didn't work and pulled Hugo into a hug. "I'm sorry they were mean to you. Kids can be…" a flashback of his own childhood spread across his vision and Draco shuddered. "... terrible. And um… I'm sorry for the stepfather thing. I just wanted to make a point. I hope you didn't feel upset by it or feel that I was trying to-"

"Mr. Malfoy?" Hugo squeaked in his ear. It sounded like those tears had broken free after all. "Thanks for saying it."

Draco's chest lightened. He didn't even realize the amount of pressure that had been there until Hugo had thanked him. He smiled to himself and gave the boy a gentle rub on the back. "Anytime."

A light, but purposeful cough sounded behind Draco and he let go of Hugo enough to look up and find a teacher.

"Excuse me sir," a teacher said with a concerned expression, "but who are you? I don't believe you're on Hugo's list of approved guardians."

"It's okay Miss Furlough," Bill's voice cut through to the conversation. He smiled brightly and gave a curt nod to Draco who was now on his feet and holding Hugo's hand. "He's a family friend and his son is in my niece's class. Might I also say that I'm surprised at your sudden attentiveness? Clearly you didn't notice my nephew being bullied or that Mr. Malfoy had stepped in."

Miss Furlough reddened with embarrassment and shame at that and gave her utmost apologies to both Bill and Draco before walking off. The men looked at each other and an awkwardness filled the air. Over the past year Draco and Bill's interactions had been few, namely Rose's chess tournament last October and Hugo's birthday party in March.

"Hermione might want to put you on that guardian list before the Headmistress detains you for kidnapping."

"It's on our list of things to do," Draco replied. Bill tilted his head in acknowledgement before the both of them were distracted by another set of students, this time Scorpius and Rose among them.

"Dad!"

"Uncle Bill! Mr. Malfoy, hi!" Rose greeted enthusiastically as she waved from the line. She frowned though when she saw an up close look at her brother. "What happened to you?"

Hugo shook his head, clearly not wanting to talk about it, and went to his sister's side as Scorpius jumped into his father's arms.

"They give you practice wands here!" Scorpius said with glee. "We can't do spells because we're not old enough, but we get to aim and learn how to wave a wand!"

"Impressive," Draco smiled, and he wasn't just saying that. His and Astoria's research into the curriculum had proved the school to be even more than what they had bargained for.

"Can we go now?" Hugo asked, but he wasn't looking at Bill, but rather at Draco. The blond gave a quick look at Bill who conceded with a nod and mouthed that he'd let Hermione know. Draco bid him his thanks and then took off from the school with three children in tow.

* * *

" _I thought you said that you and Mr. Malfoy weren't getting married? You lied!"_

" _Rose, love, I didn't lie and Mr. Malfoy and I aren't doing anything of the sort. Now sit down and the three of us can discuss this properly."_

" _But-!"_

" _ **Rose.**_ "

_Rose angrily huffed and plopped herself down onto the couch. Hugo had been sitting there the entire time and bearing witness to his sister's outburst that had stemmed from something a stranger had said to her mother as they were shopping in Diagon Alley. As for his mother, she had sat down in the armchair at an angle from them and she had closed her eyes, taking a deep breath as she did. He knew that she only did this when she was stressed and wanted to calm herself down._

" _Alright," Hermione said after countless seconds. "Rose, I know that you're upset, but_ _ **nothing**_   _that that man had said today was true. Mr. Malfoy and I aren't getting married. It hasn't even been a thought in our minds. We're dating. He's my boyfriend, not my husband, not like your daddy was."_

" _Then why did he say it if it wasn't true?" Rose asked with a pout which made Hermione sigh and frown deeply._

" _Because he read something today that put wild ideas into his head, that's why." Hermione tried her best not to scowl as she remembered the Daily Prophet article that had come out that morning. It had been a rather innocuous, yet annoying little piece about her and Draco and the children. What made it cross into dangerous waters was the word "father-figure" and insinuating that her children called Draco "dad."_

_Hermione had kept the Daily Prophet away from the table so that Rose couldn't read it or that Hugo couldn't see their photograph on the front. It was all going swimmingly until she had taken the children to Diagon Alley to get a start on things for the upcoming school year. A miscalculation on her part, Hermione should have known that she would be addressed by someone about that bloody article. But to do so in front of her kids? The stranger in question had asked, quite loudly and directed at Rose and Hugo, "How does it feel to have a new father?" While Hugo was less perturbed, Rose had been completely derailed. Hence this awkward moment._

" _People are interested in our lives, Rose," Hermione added after a short pause. "Your father and I told you bits about our history, remember? You didn't understand why people would start taking pictures or shake my hand or anyone's in the family."_

" _Uncle Harry shakes_ _ **a**_   _ **lot**_   _of hands," Hugo piped up. Hermione laughed and nodded._

" _Yes, he does. Mr. Malfoy is well-known like the rest of us and so people like to talk about him. The fact that we're together makes the reporters go nuts and write stories about us. A lot of people are going to read them and make up their own ideas that aren't going to be true. Only believe what I or Mr. Malfoy tells you, alright? Who better to know about our lives than us?"_

_Rose smiled a little, her feet dangling as she sat. "...Will you ever marry him?"_

" _I don't know. It's all very new, and like I said neither one of us are thinking about that right now."_

" _Okay. But erm...if you did? Would Hugo and I have to call him 'dad?'"_

_Although this talk was mainly to set the record straight with Rose, Hugo was a thousand times more interested than before. Hermione shook her head and she could see the sense of relief in her children's' faces._

" _If by chance we ever got married, I would never make you call him that. He's not your father, nor is he trying to be."_

"Hermione? Your brother-in-law is here."

Hermione had been lost in her thoughts ever since pulling herself together to read what the latest various news outlets were printing about her and Draco. Every time she got a new edition her heart would run wild, wondering just what she would have to talk to her children about next. Her mind constantly replayed the last tension-filled conversation she had to have with her children and it was nerve-wracking. Now, mere words on a page weren't going to deter her from seeing Draco. It just meant honest conversations and the hope that the damn "harpies" would find something new to cover.

"Bill?" Hermione said with a tilted head. "Is something wrong?"

"What? Oh, no, no, not at all," he said quickly to push aside her worries. "Figured I'd pass by since I was outside already. The kids wanted to go with Malfoy. I hope that was alright."

"They did? That's a relief. I've been a little scared about their reception of him despite them telling me they're okay."

"Still thinking about that article, huh?" Bill smirked as he closed the door behind him. Hermione didn't want to admit it so she twiddled her thumbs on her desk. He chuckled at that and sat down in front of her. "They were happy to go with him, particularly Hugo after a little run-in with some bullies."

"Oh for Merlin's sake," Hermione tutted. "It's only the first day! And  _where_  were the teachers?!"

"Preoccupied," Bill huffed. "You'll be glad to know that Malfoy stepped in though. Saw him do it as I about to do the same." He sighed then and loosened his collar a little before leaning forward in his seat. "Between you and me, despite all the male figures Hugo's got in his life, I haven't seen him so fond of one than he is with Malfoy." A mischievous expression crossed his face before he added, "You think he cursed the kids?"

Hermione laughed, shaking her head at him as tears appeared at the corners of her eyes. She wiped them away, giggles still cropping up as she answered, "Well, if he has then he's cursed me too because I'm quite taken with him. More than I thought I'd ever be with someone else, to be honest. Funny how so much can change in a year, isn't it?"

"It sure seems so," Bill agreed. "Now, I suggest you send an owl to the school and get Malfoy on that list of guardians. Something tells me that the kids will want to go home with him again tomorrow."

Hermione nodded, making a note to send an owl off before the end of the day. As Bill left and she was once again left alone in her office she sank down in her chair and thought of Draco, probably at his wits end caring for three children all around the same age, but doing splendidly regardless. Yes, it was definitely interesting how things have changed within a year.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Author's note: It's one thing when your parent has a new boy/girlfriend. It's another when it seems like they're trying to replace your mum or dad. Hermione will likely have to reassure her children over time and more talks the longer she and Draco are together. Not to mention the media doesn't help! *eye roll*
> 
> -WP


	29. Okay

_September 10th, 2013_

Hermione had a habit of clearing out her bedroom every September. Perhaps it had something to do with her birthday and the idea of a "new" year and new things in general, but she didn't think much into it. She tended to downsize during this time and threw out things that she didn't need (like old clothes). Sometimes she rearranged her furniture for a new look. Last year, she hadn't done either, and with everything that had changed in her life this seemed like an opportune moment.

After nearly an hour of rummaging, Hermione had collected at least two bags full of clothing to be donated. She was very tempted to strategically place each article of clothing within reach of a house elf, however, she didn't know where to begin for such a task, and she also didn't need Draco nagging in her ear about the pointlessness of it. With a frown, Hermione pushed down her ambitions and stood on her tippy toes in her closet. There was a shelf just above her head that lined the wall and there was one last thing in the corner that she needed to get down. It was with one last umph that Hermione's fingers grasped the corners of it, and the box came tumbling down. She let out a small screech as it collided with her head, and soon all around her were memorabilia.

Hermione was standing in the middle of a Ron puddle. She had nearly forgotten the box she had dumped every photograph of her and Ron in and hidden away roughly two months after he had died. Well, not all of them. There were still family photographs in the living room, but the more personal ones? They had been stashed away. Now, here they were, staring up at her. Hermione took a deep breath and sat down in the middle of the floor, taking a moment to let her hand glide over the smooth surfaces of all of her memories. Hermione's eyes locked onto one of them, and she smiled when she picked it up. It had been a hidden camera shot so that she could capture Ron's surprise when she told him that she was pregnant. The way his face lit up was something etched more than just onto a photograph. It was deep within her memory. All of these photographs were. Hermione didn't know how long she sat there for, but it was just the right amount of time for her to take each photograph, hold it up to her face, and either grin, laugh, or feel a sinking in her heart.

It was just after one in the afternoon when Hermione finally put everything back into its box. When it was securely back in its corner on the shelf, she grabbed the first jacket she saw, stuffed her feet into a pair of shoes, grabbed her wand, and left.

West Norwood Cemetery wasn't very busy today. It could have been due to the hour, or people still at work. She, too, should have been at work, but she had taken the day off solely for cleansing purposes. A rare thing for her to do, but the most out of character things she did always seemed to happen on the tenth. And so, she walked among tombstones with her hands in her pockets until she came across that of her late husband. Hermione took a moment to make sure that there were no muggles nearby and then quickly cleared away the dirt and grime with her wand. She also freshened up the grass from looking so old and trodden. When she was finished, a deep sigh escaped her and, oddly, so did a laugh.

"This is the first time that I've visited your grave and I haven't cried," Hermione said in between her giggles. She felt tears prickle at the corners of her eyes, despite her words, but she batted them away as she kneeled to read Ron's epitaph up close. Her hand moved over it next, sliding between its etchings before falling onto her lap. "I'm dating Draco."

Hermione tensed almost immediately, waiting for a reaction that she knew was impossible to be given. When it didn't happen she nervously chuckled and played with her fingers. "I can imagine a thousand scenarios about what you'd say to that, but in the pit of my stomach I'd like to think that you'd be okay because... _I'm_  okay. That doesn't mean that I still don't miss you," Hermione grimly smiled, her eyes briefly closed, and a deep breath in her lungs. "I  _do_  miss you, Ron, and I love you dearly. And yet...somehow Draco's been filling the cracks of every broken part of me.

'Draco's been my rock. He's been keeping me stable long before I realized that I needed him to, and he's done a damn good job at it. Me, sitting here, talking to you without crumbling is evidence of that. I'll admit that I'm terrified there will come a time that I'll want to push him away for whatever awful reason, but it's fine, really. Draco said that he'd catch me, and I believe him. I trust him with everything. Our kids, my life, my... _heart._

'I'm learning to love you while loving someone else and-"

Hermione paused. Her heart leapt twice in her chest, and her hand covered it as she breathed to adjust. Had she meant it? Did she truly mean those words or had it just flown freely as she spoke? She honestly didn't know, and for fear of her mouth betraying her further, Hermione kept quiet and remained rooted where she was.

Time ticked on, and after a while there was a shift in the air. Another human form was sitting beside her, and she leaned her head on his shoulder almost immediately.

"What time is it?" Hermione asked

"Half past four," Harry told her after consulting his watch. "Malfoy's at your house."

"Figured. He sent you after me, didn't he?"

"Yes. It's killing him to not have come after you himself, but he's got all the kids."

Hermione nodded in agreement. Although she was home from work today, she and Draco had agreed that he would still pick up her kids along with Scorpius. After that, he would bring them all to her house and they'd go out to eat. It was only now that Hermione realized that she had ruined their plans. It was the Lion King all over again.

"I guess I'd better go then," Hermione sighed as she slowly got up from the ground. "No need to worry Draco any more than I'm sure he already is."

"Before we go… Can I ask?" Harry hadn't actually asked a question, but he still stood in front of his best friend with worried eyes.

Hermione gave one last look at Ron's grave and took a deep breath before turning back to Harry. "I didn't cry."

A slow smile appeared on Harry's face, and he nodded in acknowledgement before offering his hand. Hermione took it, and they did a quick muggle check before disapparating from the cemetery.

* * *

_October 18th, 2013_

"Rose, love, you need your sleep," Hermione told her daughter. She had sent Rose upstairs with her brother to get ready for bed, and judging from her daughter's pyjamas she had. However, instead of going to bed, Rose had come back downstairs to the living room with the chess board that Draco had given her for Christmas last year. The pieces were already set up, and a few of them had already made their moves.

"There's just one more move I have to try," Rose said, her eyes never leaving the chess board. "I'll go to sleep afterwards. Is that okay?"

Hermione frowned, but she nodded anyway. "Don't stay up too late. We have to be up early to get you to your tournament on time."

Hermione went over to Rose and gave her a quick kiss on the cheek before heading upstairs. A peek in her children's shared bedroom found Hugo already fast asleep, which meant that Hermione could make herself comfortable for her nightly routine. After the children were put to bed, she would retreat to her own where a self-inking quill and special parchment were waiting. "Special" parchment because it worked like text messages on a mobile. Hermione promised herself that she would get Draco used to operating one if it was the last thing she did. In the meantime, they wrote to each other at night.

_D: How embarrassed do you think Rose would be if Scorpius held up a sign at her tournament tomorrow?_

Hermione laughed as she imagined it. Scorpius could be a little over the top when he wanted to be, and so she pictured a sign that was bigger than himself and blocking part of the audience's view.

_H: Thoroughly. Granted, I doubt she'll be paying much attention to the audience. Rose is terribly anxious. She hasn't even gone to bed yet. She's up with the chess board you gave her and practicing still._

_D: Oh, well, that's not very good. She's going to need her rest._

_H: I know. I decided to give her the next half an hour, but I'll have to put my foot down after that. Might be hard though._

_D: Would it? I've seen you with the "mum pose" before and, despite not being your child, even I felt properly scolded._

_H:Yes, well, as delightful(?) as that sounds, this is a bit different. She takes wizard's chess seriously because of her father. She doesn't say it, but I know losing would make her feel like she's disappointing him._

Hermione frowned to herself. Wizard's chess had been Rose and Ron's bonding time. They used to spend endless hours playing together, and while she still had her brother and other family and friends to play with her, it wasn't the same.

_D: Let's switch places for an hour._

_H: Sorry?_

_D: Scorpius is sleeping, and I'd be a madman to wake him. Come here for an hour to keep watch while I help Rose for a bit? Is that okay?_

_H: Merlin, you're too good. I'll ask Rose first, and then I'll let you know._

Hermione took the parchment and quill in hand before leaving her bedroom and making her way back downstairs. Rose was just as she had left her, and if Hermione wasn't mistaken, she looked frustrated.

"Rose?"

Rose looked up at her mother in surprise and braced herself to beg. "Five more minutes, please? I just really want to see if this move works and-"

"It's okay," Hermione gently cut her off. "I actually came down to ask if you wanted help to finish train before going to bed."

Rose did a slow blink as she shifted her gaze between the board and her mother. With a tilted head and slightly amused smirk she asked, "Are you going to help? I don't want to be mean, but you're not a very good wizard's chess player, mum. Daddy used to say so all the time."

"I remember," Hermione recalled fondly, "and no, I won't be playing. Mr. Malfoy offered to come and help while I watched Scorpius as he sleeps. Are you alright with that?"

Rose's face lit up like a fresh candle and she nodded. "Yes, please."

Hermione felt a warm happiness spread in her chest at seeing Rose so elated and wrote to Draco that it was okay for him to come. It took him no time at all to walk out of the fireplace, and Hermione traded places with him. When Draco and Rose were the only ones left in the room, the little girl immediately pleaded.

"Please help me not to lose."

Draco did his best not to frown and instead sat down on the floor opposite Rose. There was a one-player and two-player switch on the side of the chess board, and a quick flick rearranged the current set up so that they could start anew.

"You can start," Draco politely offered, and Rose took a moment before making her move. Quiet settled in between them as concentration grew. Despite keeping his focus on the board, Draco repeatedly looked up at Rose as he determined how best to broach the topic at hand. "You know, although I have every bit of faith that you'll do well tomorrow, it…wouldn't be the end of the world if you didn't win."

"Yes, it would!" Rose gasped. "My dad always used to say that I would be a great player in wizard's chess. If I lost then-"

"You'd still be a great player in wizard's chess," Draco finished with a soft smile. "Losing one tournament won't take away from that."

"It sure doesn't feel that way," Rose pouted. "Everyone expects me to win, and it doesn't help that they all look like my dad."

"Yes, that red hair sure is signature," Draco mumbled low enough for Rose not to hear. He then added, "I can only imagine how hard that is. Regardless, I hope you realize that they'll still be proud of you no matter what happens tomorrow. So would your father. And so will I."

Neither Draco nor Rose had made a move in the past five minutes. As the silence began to border on unbearable, Rose spoke.

"I have a request."

"Go on," Draco encouraged with a nod.

"I need you and mum to sit in the middle of the stands," Rose told him. A bit of rouge appeared on her cheeks, but she fought off the embarrassment and continued. "This way if I get nervous I can easily find you and look at you. Can you do that?"

"We can definitely do that," Draco promised with a grin. "Now, let's get this game finished. If I let you stay up too late your mum is going to hex me into next week."

Rose laughed and made her next move. "I think you mean next year."

"You're probably right."

* * *

Draco was evil. Hermione had stepped out of the fireplace and found a tray full of tooth-rotting sweets on the coffee table with a sign in front of it saying, " _Eat what you want."_  She shook her head and did very little to fight the impulse for a chocolate frog before sitting down on the couch. As usual, she bit off the legs first so that it didn't run away, and then she checked the box to see what famous wizard was there.

Hermione was very rarely surprised anymore when she got a card with Ron's face on it. At this point, she was just convinced that life liked to throw stabs at her. This time, however, those stabs were more like pinches, and she smiled at the moving image of her husband and set the card down on the couch next to her.

"Dad?"

Hermione turned behind her to see Scorpius walking into the living room, one arm wrapped around a stuffed dragon and his free hand rubbing at his eyes. He was wearing the cutest set of navy-blue silk pajamas, and she wondered if they were the choosing of Draco or Astoria. Somehow she figured the former.

"Hi Scorpius," Hermione greeted. "Your dad's at my house helping Rose for her tournament in the morning. He'll be back soon. What are you doing up?"

"I had a bad dream," Scorpius frowned. "Can I sit with you until he comes back?"

"Of course." Hermione shifted herself on the couch so that Scorpius could sit next to her. It was in this moment that she realized this was the first time she and Scorpius had ever been alone. She shouldn't have felt nervous, but she did, and hoped that she passed this little test Merlin had sent her way.

"That's Rose and Hugo's dad, isn't it?"

Hermione looked down at what Scorpius was pointing at and realized that Ron's chocolate card was still on the couch. She picked it up and smiled. "Yeah, how did you know?"

"There's a lot of pictures of him at your house," Scorpius answered smartly. Hermione felt utterly foolish because, of course, that's how he would know. "Do you know when my dad is coming back?"

"It shouldn't be too long, I'm sure."

"I hope it's soon. I can't go back to sleep unless he tucks me in."

Hermione looked down at Scorpius, or his head rather. He was leaning on her now, his head on her leg as he tucked his own under him and his dragon pressed against his chest.

"I bet you and your dad have a great nighttime routine like I do with Rose and Hugo," Hermione said as she smoothed down Scorpius' hair. It was an action she was accustomed to doing to her own children when they laid on her like this. Luckily, he didn't seem to mind.

"I take my bath after dinner, my dad makes sure that I didn't put my nightshirt on backwards, he puts me to bed, and then he tells me a story."

"Bedtime stories are always the best," Hermione replied. "What's your favorite?"

Scorpius suddenly sat up and he grinned brightly as he said, "The time you, Rose and Hugo's dad and uncle rode a dragon."

Hermione tried her best not to look surprised, but she couldn't help it. " _Sorry?_ "

"The dragon and Gringotts," Scorpius repeated. "My dad tells a lot of stories about you."

"Does he now? Well, how about I tell you one that he doesn't know?"

Scorpius eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, and Hermione knew that going back to bed was the last thing on his mind. Regardless, Scorpius settled himself on the couch with his back against the armrest as Hermione told him about the time she, Harry, and Ron met and cared for a giant named Grawp.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I disappeared. I know. Sorry, lol. Against my own will, I'm going to be pulling back from writing as focus on school gets a lot deeper. For those of you who don't follow my author page/tumblr, a bit back I mentioned that I'm going to be taking a writing hiatus by the end of March. While I'll still be writing, I won't be publishing anything new unless it's complete on my own end. Until then, I'm hoping to finish all of my WIPs so they're not left in the wind :).
> 
> Now since that's out of the way, I love the adult-child moments! Not to mention my favorite scene: Hermione at Ron's grave. She's come so far and it's wonderful (*cough* the L-word dropped! *cough*
> 
> -WP


	30. Of Red Things

_October 19th, 2013_

Although Hermione had had little doubt that Rose would do well in her tournament, she hadn't advertised the dinner she and Molly had coordinated as a congratulatory one. It was just going to be a family gathering. Now that Rose had officially won her second tournament in a row, banners had been conjured to showcase her win with _"Congratulations!"_ written in obscenely huge letters.

Every Weasley was here, plus their children, as well as Hermione's parents, which meant that the festivities were being held outside. It was very reminiscent to last year except for one thing: Draco was here with Scorpius. Naturally, everyone in the family was aware of her and Draco's new relationship. Despite that, Hermione was still in awe of how cordial everyone was and accepting. Perhaps it had something to do with growing up. It was also possible they were afraid of Hermione setting her wand on them.

Whatever the reason, it set the brunette's mind at ease as she helped Ginny gather plates from the kitchen. Every now and again, Hermione would see Draco from the double windows overlooking the sink, and she smiled as he spoke with Arthur. Draco had slipped into her life so seamlessly, and now it appeared he was doing it with the rest of her family as well.

"Does Malfoy ever notice the goo-goo eyes you make at him?" Ginny said from behind Hermione.

Hermione laughed and shook her head. "No. If he had, I'm sure that he would've poked fun at me by now." She had, however, noticed all the times when Draco would stare at her. Whether it be while she cooked, when she was reading, or those subtle glances over his dinner when they ate. So pure and so…genuine he was. It was in this moment that she had no choice but to blurt out words she had only ever said by accident and in her heart.

"I think I love him."

A shatter captured Hermione's attention, and she whipped around to find Ginny frozen. Her hands were stretched out from her body, the plates she had been carrying in pieces on the floor.

"Thank Merlin for magic or this would've been a disaster," Hermione chuckled as she took out her wand, but Ginny quickly stopped her with crazed, waving hands.

"You stow that wand away, woman! You just said earth-shattering news and you're concerned with _cleaning?!_ "

"Don't you mean _dish_ -shattering?" Hermione smartly replied with a raised brow.

"Very funny," Ginny rolled her eyes and then hopped over broken pieces of porcelain so that she could reach her sister-in-law. Once she had she tried to rein in her excitement, but it was a complete failure as her smile overtook her face. "Be serious with me now. Do you really love, Malfoy?"

"I've certainly been feeling so as of late," Hermione admitted. "Harry surely told you what happened last month when I visited Ron?"

"More like what _didn't_ happen," Ginny said happily. "We were quite proud of you."

Hermione let her pride show because yes, she had been proud of herself as well. "I said it then for the first time. I hadn't even meant to. I was talking and it just…came out."

"The most honest things usually do," Ginny nodded. "I'm assuming that you haven't told him anything yet?"

"Am I that see-through?" Hermione chuckled. The redhead raised two fingers closed together, and all Hermione could do was sigh and give in.

"Is it a Ron thing?"

"Actually…no. It's more of a, when you tell someone you love them, you can't take it back, thing. What if he thinks it's too soon? Or what if he doesn't-"

"Feel the same way?" Ginny finished. A snort was followed shortly after and she gestured to the very blond outside. "He's absolutely enamored with you. Any idiot can see that."

"Thanks?" Hermione laughed with a tilted head. "What about the 'too soon' part?"

"There's no such thing. Besides, love doesn't always start when you officially become a couple, or when you start dating someone. It can very easily begin with friendship. You should know that better than anyone," Ginny added with a soft grin. "Don't be afraid to tell him, okay?"

Hermione bit the inside of her jaw and nodded before finally being allowed to repair the broken dishes on the floor. As she headed outside and made eye-contact with Draco, the flutter in her chest growing every time she was around him, she really hoped that she could pluck up that Gryffindor courage.

* * *

_November 6th, 2013_

"This is outrageous! Those projects belong to me!" Mr. Nesby shouted. Draco gave a quick glance at Theo who was sitting in the stands of the small room, and the men shared a knowing smirk. The presiding judge looked as though he was holding back saying something unprofessional as Mr. Nesby continued to rant and rave at the verdict that had been given.

"The decision has been _made_ , Mr. Nesby," the judge said with nothing short of exasperation. "None of the projects that you seek to have claim over were made with any support from McGregor's Research Cooperation. If you want to oversimplify the situation, they are merely hobbies Mr. Malfoy has employed in his spare time. It just so happens that those hobbies may very well be a lucrative source. Mr. Malfoy has every legal right to create his own company with his projects. That is my final ruling."

The sound of his gavel was the end of the proceedings, and Draco leaned back in his chair slightly, hands behind his head as he looked over at Mr. Nesby. He was still fuming, and Draco's smug attitude wasn't helping any.

"This isn't the end of it, Mr. Malfoy," Mr. Nesby huffed as he gathered his things. "You think a few inventions and the help of an ex-employee of mine will rival my company?"

"I think so, yes," Draco smiled. "If not, you wouldn't be fighting it so hard. Have a good day, Mr. Nesby."

Theo chuckled to himself as he watched his former boss grumble and walk away. The harsh push of the double doors was icing on the cake, and Theo stuffed his hands into his pockets as he casually walked down from the stands and onto the courtroom floor.

"You sure do have a natural way of pissing people off."

Draco shrugged and neatly shuffled various pieces of parchment into a folder. "It's a gift."

"Or a curse," Theo countered. "It's a wonder how Hermione puts up with you."

"She's one of the few people I'm a saint for, that's why," Draco half-joked. He took a moment to check his watch and realized that he had just under fifteen minutes to make it from the courtroom and up several floors to Hermione's office. "Speaking of that lovely witch, I have to get going."

"Ah yes, stealing away the girlfriend for 'lunch.'" Theo added in air quotes for effect before nodding in approval. "I do hope you know that you're making me look bad. I've had to up my wooing skills tenfold because of you."

"Just be sure to make a killer speech on Sunday, and I'm sure Franny will love you for it."

Theo agreed, and Draco walked off with his things and up to Hermione's floor. He often reminisced on the first time he had walked down these halls and pass these desks, heated glares on him. There were still looks in his direction, but they weren't filled with hatred. People were used to seeing him look for Hermione by now, and combined with the very public knowledge that they were a couple, his presence was expected. The aforementioned glares were now stares of disbelief and, surprisingly, of acceptance.

As Draco neared Hermione's office, he could already see the exasperated expression on Francine's face. He held back his mischievous smile and placed his hands on the rims of his pockets.

"Mr. Malfoy," he was greeted.

"Francine," Draco bid his hello. "Are you going to attempt to bind me today?"

Francine tiredly huffed and shook her head. "No, I figured that I'd try begging. Hermione's in a meeting with the Minister. Can you _please_ wait out here instead of barging in like you usually do?"

Draco smiled before laughing and slowly nodded. "Alright, alright. I'll be good for once."

It was only because he wanted Hermione to be in a good mood that he decided to play nice. So, Draco sat on one of the chairs near Francine's desk, right ankle over left knee, hands cupped, and he waited. The first five minutes were okay, the next five were annoying, and by the end of the third Draco was going to cave until Hermione's door opened.

"Just let me know when the next meeting is, and I'll be sure to join you," Hermione was telling Kingsley as she walked him out of her office.

"Very good, Hermione, I'll do just that. Mr. Malfoy," Kingsley addressed once he saw the blond rising from his seat. Draco gave a gentlemanly nod as he acknowledged the Minister, and shortly after the elder gentleman bid Hermione and Francine his farewells before leaving.

"You have great timing to catch us leaving like that," Hermione smiled. Draco, on the other hand, grinned proudly as he buffed his nails on his lapel.

"On the contrary, I actually sat and waited an agonizing fifteen minutes."

Hermione nearly choked on air, and she turned to Francine with her brows raised. All Francine could do was shrug and chuckle in amusement.

"He stayed put for once," Francine admitted, and Draco looked even more proud of himself.

"Well, would you look at that," Hermione laughed as she put her hands on her hips. "You do have some sort of self-control. I'm shocked."

"No need to be shocked; I'm very self-disciplined. When I want to be, that is," Draco winked, and then he took a moment draw his wand and summoned Hermione's coat and bag from inside of her office. They flew pass her and into Draco's hand so that he could present them to her. "Shall we go then?"

Hermione could feel her cheeks turning red, and it didn't help that Francine was doing her best to stifle herself. "Yes, we can go. Francine, hold any memos that come flying in, please?"

"Of course."

Hermione slipped on her coat on and gave Draco her hand so that they could leave together. As they left her office, she could feel the stares they were getting. Even after all these years, it was still sometimes strange to have people's eyes on her. At least this time around the looks she were getting weren't out of pity.

"Ah, ah, ah, we're not going there," Draco said suddenly. They had made it out of the Ministry and onto the street where Hermione had been heading left towards one of their favorite restaurants. Draco, on the other hand, had yanked her hand back and led them forward. "We're making a pitstop before getting something to eat."

"We are? A pitstop where?"

"It's a surprise. You'll find out soon enough."

"A surprise from _you_ , Mr. Malfoy?" Hermione expressed a short laugh and poked him in the shoulder. "That screams trouble."

"Normally, yes, but not today." Draco gently tugged her right as they made it to a nearby apparation spot. He pulled Hermione into him and disapparated once her arms had encircled him. When they landed onto their feet, the couple found themselves in a busy town center.

Hermione could pick out the cobbled streets of Covent Gardens with ease, and she followed Draco's lead as he tapped the wall in between two buildings near the underground station to take them to the bustling wizarding section.

"You've been grumbling for the past two weeks about hating everything in your closet for Theo and Franny's engagement party. So, we're going to get this over with."

The pair was standing in front of a large storefront with gowns in the window. It was obvious what they were about to do, and Hermione turned to Draco with her mouth agape.

"Draco Malfoy, did you arrange a fitting for me?"

"While that's something that I would prefer to do, we haven't the time," Draco shrugged. "This is more of a pull what you like off the racks sort of thing."

Hermione should be used to Draco doing things like this by now, but even then she was filled with awe and felt utterly spoiled. Draco accepted her stunned silence as gratitude and eased the petrified witch into the store.

"Draco, dear, right on time," an older woman addressed Draco once they had entered. Upon seeing her, Hermione immediately felt underdressed and inadequate. The possible owner of the fashion boutique had a shapely figure and it had been accentuated wonderfully in a form-fitting hot pink knee-length dress. It complemented her caramel skin in a lovely way.

"Aunt Druscilla," Draco smiled fondly, which caused Hermione to do a quick double take.

"Aunt?" Hermione repeated.

"Not by blood or marriage," Druscilla answered Hermione's informally asked question. "Narcissa has spent many afternoons here over the years and often brought Draco along." Druscilla was grinning now and she even began to pinch Draco's cheek. "We're practically family, aren't we, love?"

"Yes, yes, Aunt Dru. Can I have my face back now?" Draco laughed as he gently swatted her hand away from his cheek. Druscilla opted for a soft pat on his head before finally turning into business mode.

"Alright, the store has been cleared out for the next two hours," Druscilla told Draco. She then turned to Hermione and began toting the brunette by the hand around the establishment. "Draco told me that the event you're going to is semi-formal, so this would be the best section to sift through."

The section Druscilla was referring too was twice, possibly three times the size of Hermione's office. Racks upon racks of clothing and enchanted mannequins modeling a few of the items were there. Of those items, what was considered "semi-formal" looked quite formal from Hermione's standpoint. She immediately wondered what a formal affair would entail and could barely take it all in.

What she _did_ do, however, was let go a small yelp when she felt foreign hands around her torso. Draco was snickering in the background.

"You have an excellent waistline," Druscilla declared. "You also have a lovely curve to your back. Might I suggest something backless?"

"Um, I don't normally, but I wouldn't mind-" Hermione's words were lost as Druscilla disappeared among the clothing.

"You should've seen her when I told her I was getting married," Draco whispered into Hermione's ear. "I was held captive for a solid twenty-four hours. Let's start picking out things, yes?"

* * *

Hermione had nothing against shopping, but being surrounded by so much clothing was a bit overwhelming. Granted, she supposed that there was an upside to being poked and prodded at, measured, pulling clothing off racks, and being handed random items. She vainly had to admit to herself that everything in the store was absolutely stunning. There were a total of fifteen dresses that had been chosen to try on, sixteen if Hermione counted the one dress that she was adamant about not wearing.

One dress was a very bright red with a slight dip in the back and a sweetheart neckline. Another was a black dress with silver sequins across the bustline and a high split. While that was a favorite, Hermione didn't quite think black was an appropriate color for the festive occasion, and she doubted the dress would look as nice in a different color. The fifth dress Hermione tried was a chocolate brown, silky to the touch, and one-shouldered, not to mention backless as Druscilla suggested. Simple and lovely yet statement-worthy, but to Hermione it felt a bit negligee-like, so it was a no. All of the fittings went like that until there was nothing left but the one in Draco's hand.

Hermione was brooding and Draco was grinning, especially as he got up from his seat behind the podium she stood on and dangled the dress next to her.

"Oh, alright," Hermione relented and took the dress from Draco's hand so that she could try it on in the dressing room.

Like many of the others, this one was red. The dress had a bit of everything from a high neck that clasped at the back, enough of the back of the dress missing to be sexy, yet classy, long-sleeved, form-fitting to show off every curve, and a split that came up to the knee. What had given her pause was the sheer material on various sections on the dress, namely the thigh area. Far too close to the crotch, Hermione thought, but it turned out she had been sincerely mistaken.

The dress fit like a glove. The sheer material covered her chest up to the neck, and the rest she had been hesitant on settled on the sides of her thighs, stopping not too high and simply…perfect. When Hermione finally came out of the dressing room she found Draco standing in front of his seat, and she wondered if he had begun smiling when he heard the dressing room door open, or if he had been this smug from the time she snatched the dress from him.

"Sensational!" Druscilla ecstatically exclaimed once she had seen her. She turned to Draco with a coy smirk and said, "My darling, you've learned a thing or two from me over the years. Shall I be ringing that up for you then?"

"Yes, please," Draco said, and he let his "aunt" disappear to the front of the store while he walked up to the pedestal to Hermione.

The witch was staring at herself in the mirror, and he doubted very much that she was even aware that the dress was now hers. He loved the way that she was gently turning this way and that, her hands smoothing over her body in full appreciation of it.

Draco wrapped his arms around her from behind and set his chin on her shoulder. "So, about my taste in clothing?"

It wasn't until now that Hermione realized Draco could smile through his body. He was happy with her, or happy for her, or any combination of the sort. She could also tell that he was enjoying this far too much. With a shake of her head, Hermione turned around in Draco's arms so that she could face him. Yes, she could have seen his triumphant expression in the mirror, but damn did it look even more pronounced when looking directly at him.

"You're just going to rub it in my face, aren't you?"

"Absolutely!" Draco gleefully admitted. "I'll take a kiss as a thank you and then we can be on our way."

Hermione laughed and cupped his face, planting a kiss on his forehead in the process. "I utterly despise you. I hope you know that."

"Ouch, well, that hurt," he mocked. "I'm going to pretend that you said you loved me instead."

Trigger words. That was all that Draco could think of after he had spoken. Hermione stiffened in his arms, her eyes widened, and her lips parted either in shock or a desire to say something.

Draco tilted his head. "Hermione?"

"I… Draco, I…" Hermione's words failed. She could do it, right now, when the opportunity had presented itself. Regardless, that wasn't what ended up leaving her mouth. "I-I'm going to take this off now. We still have to eat, and I have to get back to work."

Draco could have pushed the matter, he knew, but he didn't. Instead, he let Hermione go and watched her as she headed to the dressing rooms. When she was gone, he sighed, a slight upturn of his lips present, and muttered two words to himself.

"Me too."

* * *

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have such warm fuzzies from this chapter. We're getting down to the wire guys. I have the rest outlined, and I'm going to judge maybe 2-3 chapters left :)
> 
> -WP


	31. Silence is Golden

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Longest chapter to date at 5,888 words. Good gosh lol! I hope that you like it :). Depending on how long the epilogue will be (yes, there's an epilogue!), the last chapter will either be the next or chapter 33.
> 
> -WP

_November 10th, 2013_

Theo and Franny had been engaged since July, but an engagement party "for the ages" required proper planning in order to be executed to the fullest extent. That's what Draco had told Hermione anyway, and what Franny had said in her text messages. Franny was particularly nervous over this evening since her family still didn't have a full grasp of the wizarding world, much less traditional, pureblood society. Guaranteed to be the only other muggleborn there, Hermione had promised that she would help as best as she could. In the meantime, she was packing her things for this evening, which included an overnight bag, since the party was sure to run late and she could spend the night at Draco's. As for the children, they were happy to have one of their sleepovers with their favorite babysitter watching over them.

"You wouldn't happen to know what tricks your brother-in-law has up his sleeve for this evening, do you?" Draco asked. He had been playing "fetch-it" for various items around Hermione's bedroom so that she could pack them in her rucksack, her dress hung neatly and sealed in a dressing bag. Draco's own attire for the evening had already been dropped off at Theo's.

"Oh, George knows better than to tell me anything," Hermione chuckled. "He'd get a thorough verbal lashing in that case."

"Pfft, figures." Draco shook his head and gave a little stretch before announcing that he was going downstairs to "assess the situation" before they left. When he made it to the bottom of the stairs, he tilted his head when he saw what George was doing to his nephew. Draco walked up to the redhead who had a magical measuring tape from the top of Hugo's head down to his feet.

"Hi, Mr. Malfoy!" Hugo eagerly saluted. Draco was standing next to him with George being too busy jotting down notes on a floating notepad to pay the blond any mind.

"Hi Hugo, um… What are you doing?"

"Getting measured!"

Draco scratched his head for a moment, coughed, and gestured with his head to the measuring tape. "I can see that. I suppose my true question is _why?_ "

"Because! I'm a…" Hugo paused for a moment and looked up at George. "What am I again, Uncle George?"

"Part of the creative process!" George answered happily as he reeled in the measuring tape. "Now, go grab your sister and Scorpius from your room. They're next."

"Okay!"

Draco watched Hugo run off, and once he was gone Draco was at the point of begging. "Maybe my son will come back to me in one piece tomorrow morning?"

George dramatically gasped and placed a hand over his heart as he replied, "I resent that! Little Scorpius had all of his body parts the last time I watched him."

"Yes, but he was also unable to speak for three hours."

"And yet you still let me around your offspring," George tutted and shook his head. "Who's to blame here then, hmm?"

"My damn curiosity at wondering what you'll come up with next," Draco unwillingly admitted. That made George's eyes light up, and the excited redhead eagerly clapped his together.

"Should I tell you or do you want to be surprised?"

"Neither. In fact…" Draco outstretched his hand in a split-second decision and took a deep breath before adding, "I'd rather you impress me."

This was the first time that Draco had ever seen George with a serious expression. The redhead stared long enough to make an already uncomfortable encounter more so, but soon a slow smile was appearing.

George took Draco's hand and gave it a hearty shake. "Consider it done."

"The two of you just agreed on something," Hermione declared. She had just come down the stairs with her things to find Draco and George shaking hands, and while they weren't enemies, they had never been so chummy before. She was curious as to when the lines had been blurred to allow such an action to be taking place in her living room, and her brows creased the longer she stared at the pair. "Should I be worried?"

"Yes," Draco and George said in unison.

Hermione rolled her eyes, and she promptly determined that she didn't want to know. Instead, she said her goodbyes to Hugo, shouted upstairs to Rose and Scorpius to bid them a second farewell, and entered the fireplace with Draco. They were to be changing into their clothes over at Theo's and then heading over to the venue together. By then the place should be crawling with guests who were either too full from the hors d'oeuvres, liquor, or both. Draco was particularly hoping for the drunken aspect. This little affair was Scorpius' birthday party all over again, except now there were two muggleborns at the center of attention as well as muggles. He and Theo certainly had their work cut out for them tonight.

"Theo? Franny?" Draco called once he and Hermione had exited the fireplace. A simultaneous shout had come from upstairs, albeit from two different directions. They could only surmise that the couple were getting dressed at opposite ends of the house, their assumptions proved right by the time they reached the landing on the second floor.

There had to be some sort of charm on the home so that their voices could be heard because, to put it mildly, the Nott-Wentworth (soon to be Nott) household was massive. It was Draco's and Hermione's homes combined with six bedrooms, four bathrooms, and other rooms to officially classify it as a mansion, if not a manor. While Theo wasn't particularly one for an ostentatious display, no matter what it was, he had explained to Draco that the house was a practicality rather than an actual want. Between his family's insistence on constantly "checking in," and Franny's family from all over the globe who liked to travel and visit her, having extra rooms was a necessity. Draco could only be so thankful that his family was neither large nor so keen on such frequent visits. He liked his house with its moderate three bedrooms, and he preferred it to the five bedroom-home he had shared with Astoria and, most certainly, the damn near castle that was Malfoy Manor. It was as he thought this, however, that his mind drifted over to the brunette who was calling for Franny again.

Draco briefly began to picture a fuzzy image of a house with himself, Scorpius, Hermione and her children, all running amok together. Five people, most assuredly with three bedrooms. One for himself and Hermione, one for Rose for she surely wouldn't want to bunk with her brother forever, and would Scorpius and Hugo want to share? If not, that made four bedrooms instead. And then what about guest rooms…?

"Mate, snap out of it."

Draco blinked. Hermione was gone, although he could hear her greeting Franny and a door closing somewhere up ahead. Theo was in front of him, his hand waving in front of the blond's face, the groom's own with concern decorating his features.

"Sorry," Draco mumbled. "I was just thinking."

" _About?_ " Theo fished. Draco really didn't feel like getting into the topic of the blissful future he had just randomly envisioned. It was too much to talk about, especially since he and Hermione had barely scraped the surface of the L-word. Instead, he moved onto other more important, albeit depressing, matters.

"Safety measures for tonight," Draco lied. "We should go over them again."

Theo's concern morphed into a different kind and also accompanied a sense of duty. "Yes. We can discuss it while we're getting dressed."

* * *

"Tell me why I agreed to this again?" Franny asked with a sag in her shoulders. Hermione was able to frown because the witch couldn't see her with her back facing the brunette. Regardless, she threw some happy into her tone as she took a sash end in each hand.

"Because engagement parties are a tradition. It's a time for the soon-to-be married couple to share their love with their family and friends. Of course," Hermione added with a slight snarl to her lips, "when it's in a pureblood, elitist society, it's less about love and rather showing off the couple in a ridiculous display of how much money one can spend."

Franny held in a snort and peered over her shoulder at what little of Hermione she could see. From her periphery, it was an awful sight of annoyance and disgust. "Yes, tell me how you _really_ feel," she grinned, and then outright smiled when Hermione's face turned a shade that was not the fault of makeup. "It's alright. Neither Theo nor I wanted something this extravagant either. However, we're not stupid enough to turn down an affair that his parents so graciously decided to pay for."

Hermione would've probably still fought it, someone else's money or not, but she chose to nod instead of voice that particular opinion. With the sash ends of Franny's dress still in her hands, she made sure her grip on them was firm. "Alright, deep breath in!"

Franny did just that and Hermione tugged on the sash. Franny's dress for tonight had a crisscross back with a silk white sash to close it partially together. It was a corset-like bodice, and Hermione wondered just how Franny intended on breathing tonight. Despite that, the dress was beautiful with small pearls sewn into the bodice. From her hips down it was a chiffon material with a heavier set underneath so that it wasn't see-through. The trail behind it had to be at least four or five feet long, which was baffling because Franny told her that the wedding dress she had her eyes on had a longer trail than this.

"Keep holding it in… Just tying it off… And… Good. You can breathe now. _Can you?_ " Hermione genuinely questioned. She stood in front of Franny, searching her face and watching her body language to make sure that the woman wasn't swaying from a lack of oxygen, but the future Mrs. Nott was nothing short of perfect health.

"I'm okay." Franny took a deep breath, her hands smoothing over her dress. Her hair was pinned back and held with a shiny silver butterfly clip, her makeup was modestly applied but noticeable in a flattering way to accentuate her cheekbones and blue eyes. Even with the wideness of the woman's smile, Hermione could still see points of stress in her face evident by a strain in the corners of her eyes and her tight jaws. It was concerning because if _Hermione_ could see it, then she knew that Theo would be the first one on it the moment they met each other in front of the fireplace downstairs.

"You're nervous," Hermione declared. Franny's face faltered in that moment, and she let her hands slide up her arms and gave a lackluster shrug.

"I know that we've gone through all of this with our texts, but-"

"It's okay to be scared. I already told you how Draco's father cornered me at Scorpius' birthday party." Hermione was still heated over that little exchange, not to mention his part in the whole photographs-divorce monstrosity. "Despite that, the rest of the evening still went okay."

"Of course, it did. There were children there," Franny pointed out. "Who's going to try to poison you when there are children about!"

"Someone who cares very little about Azkaban," Hermione dryly answered. Part joke, mostly serious, but she meant it regardless of how her answer had been delivered. She did regret it slightly when she saw the panic even more prominent in Franny's face. Hermione did her best to rectify her mistake by telling her the one thing that helped her get through most, if not all, of the stress and depression that bogged her down.

"Listen to me. No matter who's out there, you have to remember that Theo's going to be there too. And, just like how Draco won't let anything happen to me, Theo won't let anything happen to you or to your family. Besides," Hermione added with a half-smile, half-smirk. "One pissed off Slytherin is enough. Can you imagine if the both of them went off at the same time?"

Franny paused for a moment, but then she laughed, all of her tension draining away with it. "Merlin, help those poor souls."

"Indeed," Hermione nodded. "We should get going. Draco and Theo are probably downstairs already."

* * *

Yes, they were all adults now and Hogwarts was far behind. Draco was a champion for trying to put those days behind him, which often included the fact that he was in Slytherin. He did his best to tell himself, and others, that if it came down to it, his House didn't define him. In fact, the older he became he wondered just what the purpose of Houses were. Why not just randomly select students for the different dormitories or allow the students to rank where they wanted to stay based on the aesthetics or location? It would promote better unity, if he didn't say so himself, but unity was still there to be had even if it only remained in a particular House.

That said, Slytherins truly embodied their House traits of cunning, determination, ambition, and resourcefulness. It was the first and the last that got Draco to thinking of this as he and Theo dressed, because it was those two aspects the men had indulged in to prepare for tonight. Theo didn't trust a single member of his family to play nice. He expected snide remarks and glares of distaste. While he was sure that no one would try to perform any dangerous harm tonight, Theo preferred to be thorough in every measure that he took, especially if it concerned his future wife.

"I hate to admit it, but you were right about Weasley," Theo said. Draco briefly looked up from his cuffs, a small smile playing on his lips, and he nodded.

"Unfortunately so. Were his creativity not geared towards children I think we'd all be in trouble." Draco took a moment to appreciate the cufflinks he had just put on and buffed each lightly on the lapel of his jacket. "How well did it work?"

"I spiked my father's tea this morning, and the man was still a mute by the late afternoon. It might have worn off by now, but it was bloody brilliant."

Draco laughed gently to himself at the far off look in Theo's eyes. He must have been clearly picturing his father with his inability to speak, and Draco's jealousy soared. If there was any of the potions left, he would have to keep some for his own father. "The house elves have their work cut out for them."

"A bit," Theo shrugged, "but they'll be able to slip the potion into anyone's drink who becomes unruly without being noticed. It's perfect."

"Agreed. Couple that with the four emergency exits and the golden rule to not leave our witches alone for a moment, and I think we're set."

"Not quite."

Draco had been giving himself a once-over in the suite's ceiling-to-floor mirror, but he quickly turned around at Theo's hesitancy. When he did, he found the brunet fully dressed in an all-white suit meant to compliment Franny's dress, so he was told. Draco had known Theo for a long time, and even with a war going on, he had yet to see the man look so nervous. Between the way Theo's lips were pursed, his brows hovering near his hairline, and unsure slump in his shoulders, Draco could rightly determine that the man was a wreck.

"Well?" Theo probed. He looked down at himself, his hands out to his sides, and he urged Draco with a barely-there tilt of his head. Draco probably should have been more comforting than he was, but he could rarely resist a moment to poke fun at his best friend in times of distress.

"You look like you're going to be shitting bricks at any moment."

Theo's face fell just as Draco's lighted up and he broke down in hysterics. "You're _fine_ ," he reassured afterwards with a clap on Theo's shoulder. "The look suits a nervous groom-to-be just perfectly."

"For bloody sake, I'm going to kill you," Theo glared. Draco rightfully declared that he would do no such thing and then encouraged the man that he, truly, did look nice. Theo was still unconvinced, but the women were probably already waiting for them by the fireplace and there was little time to waste.

Draco led the way out of the guest bedroom where they had gotten dressed and headed down the hall. It had been perfect timing as their witches were leaving their room as well. Franny was a vision in white, and Draco side-eyed Theo who seemed to be at a loss for words. Draco knew the feeling well because it was the same set of emotions he often cycled through whenever he was around Hermione. He still didn't know what he did to deserve her, but in a time where there always seemed to be someone or something out to get him, he had stopped wondering.

"Well, don't you look lovely," Draco smiled. He reached out for Hermione's hand and planted a chaste kiss on the tip of her knuckles. He looked up with a devilish glint in his eye and added, "Just where did you get that dress? Whoever had a hand in it has great taste."

"Merlin, you're never going to let that go, are you?" Hermione shook her head. Draco let his hand envelop hers and intertwined their fingers in a tight, yet comfortable clasp.

"Of course not," he replied without an ounce of shame. Hermione's makeup may have naturalized her blushing, but Draco was still able to enjoy the fight she was having with the upward tilt of her mouth and the way her eyes shied away from him.

"Come along, lovebirds!" Theo called from a distance. It appeared that the couple of the hour had already gone down the stairs, leaving Draco and Hermione at the top.

The fireplace was conveniently large enough to fit all four of them, and some seconds and a handful of Floo Powder later they were exiting into an exquisite foyer. It wasn't hard to miss the cream-colored marble floor with the delectable way that it shined, but since the fireplace faced a corridor, it was easy to not notice the grandeur of the foyer that remained. A double staircase that led up to and met together at the second floor. Beyond that was an intricately carved table with a large bouquet of roses in a vase above it, and archways that led to other hallways surrounding it. A marvelous chandelier hung from above, and the ceiling? Famous recreated paintings like Michelangelo's The Creation of Adam.

Draco gave a low whistle as he eyed the place. "Exactly who are your parents trying to impress, Theo?"

"They haven't had a cause to celebrate anything in a while," Theo replied as he also appraised his surroundings. "So, to answer your question, my guess would be everyone."

"Merlin," Franny breathed as Theo gently tugged her along towards one of the staircases. "My family's going to think that I'm marrying into the mafia with a setup like this."

"Mafia?" Draco tilted his head although the witch couldn't see him. Hermione, on the other hand, smiled at his blatant confusion as they followed the couple ahead of them.

"Think of…a close-knit family that are often involved in malicious dealings." A simple, generic, and accurate description. Hermione wasn't quite sure why Draco was staring at her with his lips screwed up in a wry expression, perhaps even wanting to laugh, but it wasn't too hard to figure out. Her definition of a mafia was a little too generic, and Hermione realized that it could be widely applicable, especially to the blond man's family.

There had been large double doors at the top of the landing, and a set of house elves were there waiting to greet them.

"A pleasure to have you, Mr. Nott, Miss Wentworth, and guests," one of the house elves said pleasantly. "May you enjoy."

The house elves opened the doors together and it led to yet another landing. Another set of staircases were on either side, and at the bottom was a sea of partygoers. The ballroom matched the grandeur of the foyer, but the massive ceiling-to-floor windows every few feet against the back wall gave the room even more life.

Some sort of charm must have been placed on the entryway to alert them that Theo and Franny had arrived, because the moment they had crossed the threshold, the bustling affair had quickly turned to silence. The amplified sound of a utensil hitting a glass travelled through the air, and Theo's mother's voice accompanied it. It was only now that a pedestal could be seen up against the far wall in between two windows where Mrs. Nott was addressing the crowd.

"Ladies and gentlemen," she loudly announced. "My son, Theodore Nott and his… _darling_ fiancée, Miss Francine Wentworth."

Draco and Hermione both clapped just as everyone else, although they shared a brief glance since they could hardly ignore the pause Theo's mother gave when speaking of Franny. It was obvious that engaged couple hadn't missed it either considering Theo's reddened face and Franny whispering to him as she patted his arm.

Draco and Hermione took a step back as Theo and Franny headed the way to the party floor, Hermione leaned in to Draco once they were far enough back to be unheard. "You didn't tell me that Theo's mother didn't like her."

"She's a muggleborn," Draco replied matter-of-factly. "Did I really have to say so?"

Hermione wished that she could say no, but the sad fact was that she couldn't. She looked over at the backs of her friends, and it was with a delayed reaction that she realized that Theo and Franny were her and Draco's doubles. On the one side, a man who belonged to a rich, pureblood family, but cared nothing for blood status, and on the other, a woman of muggle lineage who was, despite the horrible analogy, forbidden fruit. The only difference was that Hermione and Draco were newspaper-worthy, and something told her that even though this night was supposed to be all about Theo and Franny's engagement, people, namely the wizards and witches who occupied the room, would be more interested in the blond and brunette.

_Especially_ Rita Skeeter.

"What on earth is _she_ doing here?" Hermione hissed at Draco. She had effectively pulled him back closer to the stairs while Theo and Franny were shaking hands and politely thanking the guests that had come. Draco hadn't a clue who she had been referring to, solely for the fact that anyone that wasn't a member of Franny's family could have easily applied. It wasn't until she directed his gaze with an up-push of her chin that he realized who she had meant.

Draco was now joining in Hermione's displeasure. Rita Skeeter, that _horrible_ journalist, was indeed in the crowd. While many journalists had had their hand in dragging his name through hell and back, Rita had taken the prize for writing most of those articles. As his mother had informed him, it wasn't until after Draco had left England that Rita had dried her quill tip. Well, not necessarily set aside her notepad, but rather had retreated from the public eye, presumably to write a book, a memoir, or some other trash that he would burn in a fire. Without proper fuel for her writing, what else was she to do? It was true that she came out of her hole when some particularly juicy event would arise. Granted, she had been wise enough _not_ to write anything when Ron had died. Draco was quite certain that Rita would be a dead woman if that had happened. Her presence here now, though, piqued Draco's interest. She hadn't dipped her toe into the mouth-watering gossip that was of him and Hermione getting together just a few months ago, so why was she here?"

"Are you planning to stay by the stairs all night?" Nott Sr. addressed the pair. Draco and Hermione snapped out their respective reveries and turned to him, both clearly embarrassed.

"Mr. Nott," Draco greeted with a tilt of his head. "It's good to see you; it's been a while."

"Yes, it has. The last that I saw you, you and Astoria were the happy couple making all the others jealous," Nott Sr. laughed. It was a deep, belly-rumble of a laugh, and Hermione wanted nothing more than to cast a Silencing Charm on him. Judging by the sudden tightness of Draco's jaw, he most likely wanted to silence him in other ways. Nott Sr.'s laugh died down to soft grumbles before landing his eyes on Hermione. With half a smirk one could only call condescending, he asked, "How does it feel to have stolen yourself a Malfoy?"

The word "stolen" crashed on Draco's ears and his sneer was instantaneous. " _Stolen?_ How can you say that she-?"

"Wonderful!" Hermione jumped in awkwardly. She gave Draco a quick pleading look before giving Nott Sr. a smile wide enough to break her jaws. "Being with Draco has been wonderful, thank you for asking."

Hermione didn't say anything more, and instead she began to walk away, gently tugging Draco along with her. It was a bit hard to move him, almost as though his feet had a strong Sticking Charm attached. He did, eventually, get going, and she gave his bicep a quick squeeze to bring him back to the here and now and away from whatever retaliatory actions he had been thinking of.

"We have to choose our battles, Draco," Hermione soothed. "Here isn't the time nor the place. It would ruin Theo and Franny's night if you hexed Theo's father into oblivion."

"I was thinking of something worse, but fine," Draco grumbled. He kept his disgruntled attitude long enough for Theo to notice and he furrowed his brow.

"What's got you upset?"

"Nothing," Draco replied with a suck of teeth. He took two glasses of champagne off of a floating tray and passed one to Hermione. His own glass hovered near his lips before he found Nott Sr. with his eyes. He, too, had something to drink in his hand. "Your father appears thirsty."

Theo followed Draco's gaze and saw his father gingerly sipping from his glass. Draco looked like he was willing to do something that would land him in Azkaban while Hermione appeared to be restraining him with a firm hand over his. It didn't take a genius to figure out that something unwanted had occurred within a few moments of their arrival, and Theo sighed.

"Tizzy," he called into the air, and a house elf appeared at his feet, ready to serve and giving a low bow before him.

"Yes, Young Master Nott?"

"My father's champagne, please."

The house elf was gone within seconds, and Hermione tried to see what exactly Theo had sent Tizzy to do. No matter how hard she looked, however, Hermione couldn't find Tizzy, nor did it seem that Nott Sr., or anyone around him, had noticed the elf. Everyone just continued drinking as normal.

With her brows furrowed, Hermione opened her mouth to ask what exactly Theo had done, but he had been pulled into the conversation Franny had been having with a woman who could only have been her mother. She felt Draco's arm then as he pulled her close, and his voice tickled her ear as he spoke.

"Don't worry about it. Just a preventative measure Theo got from Weasley's joke shop earlier this week," Draco explained. The sudden abnormal size of Hermione's eyes wasn't unexpected, but he was quite curious to know if she was shocked that Theo would deliberately do something against his father, or that he had gone to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes. Draco was pretty sure that it was the latter. Anything more dangerous than a child's toy and Hermione would've cursed him within an inch of his life.

As it were, Hermione took a deep breath, nodded, and went on with the party as though she hadn't seen or heard anything.

* * *

Nearly two hours into the party and Theo had had various house elves spike six different champagnes with what Hermione now knew as George's Tongue Trap potion. It was basically a modified version of a Babbling Beverage potion, rendering the speaker unable to talk for several hours. The potion's original use had been meant to speed up a person's speech like fastforwarding a VHS tape, but as Scorpius could attest to, it had the opposite effect. Not that it mattered since the rebranded potion had now served a great purpose. Theo and Draco had anticipated some unsavory remarks to be made this evening, and so they had taken great care in making sure that Hermione, Franny, and Franny's family felt safe and comfortable.

Hermione didn't really talk much to anyone outside of Draco and her friends. Franny's family were a delight, and, in a funny turn of events, an uncle of hers was a dental patient of Hermione's father! It was a good laugh finding that out, and she continued to enjoy herself with the endless array of floating trays filled with food and drinks. Hermione was having such a wonderful time, sipping on her third champagne, that she had almost forgotten that there was someone in attendance whom she loathed.

Hermione had noticed the change in the air around her before realizing that Rita had invaded her personal space. Everything around the brunette sounded blunted, evidence of a _Muffilato_ being cast, and Hermione huffed. There was also now a considerable amount of space around them as though Rita had cast a spell to put distance between them and the other guests. Draco was now much farther from Hermione's side than before, but before she could attempt to reach him, Rita had stepped directly into her line of sight.

" _Ms. Weasley,_ " Rita pleasantly greeted, if one could call it "pleasant." A smile had been there, yes, but it held contempt, if not blatant dislike. "Fancy running into you here. How does it feel to have risen through the ranks to warrant an invitation?"

Perhaps it was too much time spent with Draco, but she could feel a sneer coming on. Instead, she reeled it back, plastered the fakest grin she could muster and replied, "I wouldn't call it rising through the ranks, but it's fine. And how do _you_ feel, Rita? Walking on two legs rather than buzzing about people's heads and all?"

Contempt turned to hatred in the blink of an eye, and rightly so. It was Hermione's fault that Rita's animagus form was registered with the Ministry, and the older woman was never going to let that go. It was probably why her next line of conversation was so acerbic that it almost, _almost_ , made Hermione drop her glass.

"Do you think that your late husband would approve of the match you've recently made with Draco Malfoy? For a muggleborn such as yourself to be aligned with a family associated with war and _mudblood_ rhetoric, don't you think that it's an insult to his memory?"

"An…? An _insult_ to his memory?" Hermione choked. She stood completely flabbergasted before she swallowed deeply and blinked the tears, angry ones, that had sprung to her eyes. Seconds rolled by agonizingly before Hermione could properly compartmentalize all of the emotions she was feeling. Rage at how Rita could so bluntly accuse her of casually dismissing Ron. Frustration at the woman's gall and mentality. Sadness at how the past seemed, at least in this moment, unescapable. Most of all, however, Hermione felt pity -for Rita.

In the last moment of her rationalization, Hermione laughed. For the woman who wanted to see the brunette broken, laughter was _not_ the action that she had expected, nor were the words that eventually came out of Hermione's mouth.

"I feel sorry for you." Hermione was in a state of giggles now, and they calmed down into a happy sigh as Rita's face morphed into utter confusion. "Ron's memory goes far deeper than a war. It's my love for him. I see him in the face of my children, and I feel him through my friends and family. And if _they're_ rooting for Draco and I, I think I'm doing just fine."

The _Muffilato_ that Rita had put up either fizzled of its own accord or because Hermione had moved out of its range. Regardless, she left the stunned-into-silence woman and was directly at Draco's side now. Hermione politely interrupted Draco's conversation to quietly say, "If you happen to find Theo, feel free to mention that Rita Skeeter looks absolutely dehydrated."

Draco's previous conversation was completely dropped at that point as he immediately began looking for the meddlesome witch. Needless to say, he was taken aback at how close in proximity she was to them, and he wondered just how long she had been there.

"What did she say to you? What did she do? Are you alright?" Draco rattled off question after question, his gaze going from soft and warm to menacing and dangerous whenever his eyes lifted above Hermione's face and into the crowd. He was going to get whiplash if he kept that up, and Hermione steaded his face with her hands on his cheeks, gently forcing him to look at her and stay there.

"I'm fine, Draco," Hermione reassured. "I promise that I am."

Draco had no choice but to take her at her word, and he nodded, smiling when she reached up on tiptoes to kiss him on his forehead. A camera flash went off somewhere, and they just knew it was of them instead of who it should _really_ be on. It didn't matter though. If the world wanted to see, let them see.


End file.
